It is a dad-only week as mom travels to Pittsburg for her organization’s annual meeting. I have caught up on laundry, mostly because Maureen did nearly all of it before she left. I have tried a new recipe for slow-cooker oatmeal, which the children voted “not as good” as the last recipe. And I let them have garbage for dinner one night while we watched the documentary, Planet Earth (and no, the irony of mankind’s treatment of the earth and the effect of dinner on their bodies wasn’t lost on the eldest).
It is only day three.
But there was moment in Mass yesterday when I was listening to Father John read about salt and light, that I began to think about how my children are lights in the world. The oldest is fascinated with the possibility of alternate universes and wants to study quantum physics. I’m not sure I could spell the word “quantum” at eleven.
Child number two wants to be a teacher. I have never met a child who could turn anything into “playing school.” If she helps her sister study, there is an imaginary classroom involved. If they are playing with Legos, she’s building a school. I’m not sure if she wants to impart wisdom or just likes being bossy.
Child number three will illustrate the next great graphic novel. He has taken a cue from his eldest sister and fills sketchbook after sketchbook with illustrations. When he isn’t drawing, he is casting spells from Harry Potter on all of us. I think he wishes the school would add Parseltongue to their foreign language choices.
Then there is the youngest. We are hoping the upcoming celebration of Reconciliation curbs her ability to lie to your face (“You were gone for thirty seconds and I’m not deaf, so there is no way in the world you brushed your teeth!”). Still, her gymnastic abilities are amazing. Her confidence is overwhelming. The lying will pass, I am sure, but I pray the playfulness never leaves here.
I look at these four amazing children and pray their father doesn’t screw things up. I pray that they will grow to cherish their relationships with each other. I pray that they will change the world in powerful, pervasive ways. I look from my chair to the four of them sitting on the couch, eating Chex mix and popcorn (we were out of ice cream) and I realize they are the light of the world. They are the light of my world.
And it is very good indeed.