Friday, January 24, 2014

A Tender Heart

In between all the sword fights and super hero games, I can forget what a tender heart my little boy, Mick, has.  His heart is big and kind and he loves everything around him.  Yesterday, I was reminded of his deep compassion underneath that rough and tough little boy who is swinging bats and jumping off of things much too high.  

Jaley and Mick were playing outside when I heard Jaley scream (and that girl can scream), "Mommy, there is something dead outside."  That got my attention, and out I went.  Sure enough, there was a dead mole sitting in the middle of the concrete patio. Until that moment, I had never actually seen a mole, only their tell tale marks ruining beautiful gardens everywhere.  I neither know how it passed nor how it happened to arrive on our concrete patio.  I only know for certain that at 17 years old and declawed, it most certainly wasn't as a result of Buford, our cat. 

I, then, promptly did what a Florida girl does with dead rodents. I grew up with bugs practically as big as this mole, so these types of things just don't phase me.  I carefully scooped it up in a plastic bag and got rid of it quickly.  Plus, Scott was traveling for work, so it wasn't like anyone else was taking care of the problem.  Thinking that I had swiftly and seamlessly handled the situation, I was planning to get back to fixing dinner. 

That's when I heard Mick crying.  He was standing holding his shovel and hoe.  He told me he was so sad that this little mole had died and he wanted to bury it in the backyard.  His heart was touched by an animal for which he didn't even know the name.  He simply called it the "furry creature." 

Dinner was a little late last night.  Instead, I scooped up Mick and held him.  I took a few minutes to talk about the death of that little mole - maybe the mole was old or maybe he was sick - we just didn't know.  Then, I took a few minutes to remind myself that our hearts can be touched by things in life big and little.  While I was only focused on getting things "sanitized" in the backyard, Mick's compassion in turn opened up my own heart.  So his tenderness was passed along. 

That is life in the Stroller Lane.  


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