“Remember,” she mumbles sleepily, “I just want to remember. Some people don’t have a bed, mom. I didn’t have a bed, mom. God gave me a bed. And I wanted to remember what it was like to not have one.”
My heart wept, remembering, that I have always had a bed. And I have complained about my bed. Have I ever even said thanks for a bed? But I have offered up complaints that it is too soft, or too big. And I only have slept on the floor or cold earth in fun. Honestly I can’t even imagine not having a bed.
We had the sweetest of prayer times that night, as each one of us could only think of the things for which we are thankful, around and around the prayer circle.
May we continue have our eyes opened, our senses awakened to the bountiful graces that surround us on every side, in every place.
A warm cozy bed
his warm feet snuggling my cold feet
Pink mountain in the morning
Sweet words of affection in the morning