Tiny child, waist high to her father, face beaming,
looks up to heaven,
raises hands to the sky,
and yells
at the top of her lungs,
"Thank You, God, for spring!"

Then running to join me in the barn, giddy with excitement,
staccato words through a smile of tightly gritted teeth,
"Mama, I - just - love - SPRING!"

She spins and twirls.

"Me, too, baby." But my echo of her sentiment is faded in comparison as our conversation bounces off the barn walls. There was an amused smile but no exclamation in my voice.

She runs out, dancing into the yard with shouts of, "I love SPRING!",
and I wonder...

When did I grow up?
When did the wonders of
warm breezes,
new buds on trees,
V's of geese returning north,
early and late hours of bright sunshine,
and robins in the fields
become so tame.

I'm up early this morning.
House is silent.
Sun is shining.
The memory of her joy stirs my soul...
I feel joy growing, rising and bubbling over.
Little one, be my teacher.
I will rejoice today.

"Thank You, God, for spring!"
Thank You, God, for little ones like mine.
I can see why You love children...
Why You tell us to come to You as a child.

"Thank You, God, for spring!!!!"

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