You’d think I would remember. I’ve been cherishing and talking about HOME for so long. But we get busy and we forget. I do anyway. I forget how important are the hundreds of little things that make home what it is.
That the atmosphere of a home subtly, slowly and profoundly shapes our children as they grow in it.
How I greet them in the morning, so that day after day my face and my words show them how glad I am they’re here.
(But also how sometimes, as the day wears on, the pressures and deadlines of life make me short and snappy. Please, dear Lord, let them forgive me again.)
The days where I remember to light some candles and turn on soft music and infuse the air with a calm in this often loud, busy home. To just sit and talk and listen for a while.
(Or I can rush and brush them off and show them that I can, and often am, tyrannized by the urgent.)
The little things we do matter.
Even the rhythm of of our daily routine is soothing to our little ones before they, too, must bustle around changing schedules. I need to remember to preserve it as much as I can.
I believe they will remember with great fondness (though not always conscious now) someone working each night to cook a yummy meal, even if simple, for them. Serving is always fruitful. I wish I could remember to do it more joyfully!
Buying cheap art supplies and watching them create is another little happy they will tuck in their trunk of memories.
I believe a hundred small things, like even handing a cup of cold water to my son, matter. Many things they will forget, but the building we do, one simple, deliberate act after another, will get woven into their being.
And remembering how important the prosaic is helps me face my day with more purpose and inspiration. And quite honestly, I think it helps us all to live richer, more present lives. And at the end of life, I believe the seemingly unimportant will be of great worth.
There is nothing, Sir, too little for so little a creature as man. It is by studying little things that we attain the great art of having as little misery and as much happiness as possible. -Samuel Johnson