Thursday, 8 April 2010
Today is a great day. Today, I get to sing the praises of my children. I get to celebrate how much I adore them. I get to rejoice in the fact that I have been blessed with being a mother. Not once but twice. The pigeon pair.
There are moments in my life when I reminisce on what life was like pre-children. Usually it is when I am up to my eye balls in the fifty million things that I am trying to do all at once and attend to my children. Lucky for me multi-tasking is a skill that I have taken to quite well and so my dear children still get big chunks of Mummy – amongst it all.
My darling daughter Kitty – I feel so blessed that you have come to play with me in this lifetime. Your vivaciousness, zest for life and enthusiasm – brighten my day. You make me laugh with your silly songs and dances; you inspire me with your creativity and impress me with your kind and caring nature.
My gorgeous Milo – What a delight you are. Thank you for joining me on this journey. What fun we are having together. You are such a happy and loving little boy. Our family is all the more blessed since you came to play. Your lovely little kisses and cuddles make my day and I look forward to seeing you grow and develop over the years to come.
Sometime in my twenties, I came across a book written in 1923 called ‘The Prophet’ by Kahil Gibran. A series of philosophical essays written in English prose it resonated with me so deeply that elements of it have embedded themselves in my psyche. The chapter on children in particular;
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Kitty and Milo you are loved. Thank you for making my heart sing.
Posted by Morgan Wills at 16:40