The air breathes cool through the open window, wafts past the “clean cotton” Yankee Candle votive that releases just a hint of fragrance. The shrub sways in time with the bell rope, and a hummingbird buzzes at the feeder, hovers in place, sips and savors. A wasp with legs dangling wants in the garage and seeks entrance at the cracks of the closed door. Wee crabapples snuggle deep in branches, and I wonder if the waxwings will return. And will I see them if they do.
I’ve pulled out paints and pencils and art paper and ribbons and hot glue guns for Grace. She’s working at the white enamel Hoosier table in the kitchen with an ear tuned to the TV—Power Rangers, who use their gifts to save the world from evil.
She’s disgusted with her work. “I messed up big time. You can tell a kid drew this.”
continued over at BibleDude.net…
Still a kid,