Painting by Mary Cassatt
Last night, as I lay in bed sleeping soundly, I heard the pitter
patter of little feet running towards my room.
I tried to wake my sleepy mind to envision what the sound might have been. I heard a tender voice utter, “Mommy, my
tummy, throat, and head hurts really, really bad.” I leaned over the bed to feel her forehead and
sensed the warmth coming from her skin.
She looked so pitiful with her downcast eyes and sad voice my heart was
overwhelmed with compassion. I think God gives mothers a compassionate heart for
her child so she can give to her children in ways that don’t come natural. Forcing myself out of bed, I made her a bed
next to ours and gave her some medicine to take the pain and fever away. I tried to imagine how Christ would want me to
love on my precious girl and decided I should go downstairs in the freezing
cold bottom floor to make her some tea. As
I’m heading down the cold staircase, I realized I’m shivering and that I forgot my robe and am now
more cold and awake than what I had ever hoped for at 3am. I pictured the warm childish eyes, the rosy cheeks, and the small tilt of the mouth forming a smile just before I left. Pondering on that picture kept me walking, even though every step downward, the brisk cold air reached my bones deeper.
I quickly prepared the tea, gathered a water bottle and headed back upstairs. When I opened the door, there before me, was my
little joy all nestled in the bed I had just prepared for her, comfortable and
smiling looking ready for tea with not an ounce of sleepiness in her. She was so grateful and talkative it was hard
for her to have quiet talk. I lay down
with her realizing this was going to be a long night, but also understanding it was all worth the sacrifice of sleep, to build the relationship with her. We talked for a good hour
about everything. She even told me all
about a cheesy movie called " Santa Clause conquers the Martian” while
acting out what she saw. We laughed, talked
and drank our tea. Eventually rest did
come, but I hope and pray that she will see the love her mama has for her. These nights don’t happen often,
so I write this note to encourage myself to stop, look and feel what
my little ones need more often. They might just
need quiet peaceful time with their mama listening and loving on them. Thank you my Samantha girl for a lovely 3am wake up. I will cherish the memories we made that night.
