Paper, Pencils and Butterflies
I ignore the posted lists. They don’t apply to me.
I don’t have to stock up on notebook paper. Don’t have to buy 200-count tissues in stores that only sell 150 count.
No longer do I run from store to store looking for the right type of scissors. The right number of crayons.
Yes, those days are long gone.
So long gone I’m now talking to my grandsons about their impending first day of school.
“So Charlie, are you excited or nervous about your first day?”
Charlie who is 4 doesn’t hesitate, “I think you know the answer to that question.”
And I smile. Because I do know the answer. I see his grimace when Jude talks about school. And I remember those little stubborn butterflies that chose to occupy my stomach on first days.
First days are hard
Sometimes they’re hard for moms.
I was a mom who put on a brave face, wiping off tears, after I dropped them off.
I watched the clock, knowing the kids would be home soon, along with the chatter my house loved.
And yes, I was the mom saddened when summer ended. The one who never looked forward to an empty house.
New beginnings bring mixed feelings. Maybe because they are linked to change. I’m not a big fan of change.
I am excited about one thing. The job I’ve been entrusted with, instead of shopping for supplies.
I get to PRAY
It’s not that I didn’t pray before. Believe me, I did. It’s just that I appreciate the value of prayer, in a new light.
Prayer is a privilege. Storming heaven with requests for my little grandchildren.
Praying for God’s protection and guidance as they venture out.
And I’ll pray as often as I think about them, thanking God for this privilege.
Being a grandparent for the last 6 1/2 years has been a joy. I’ve found smiles I had tucked away for a long time.
I’ve laughed the biggest laughs at the smallest things.
I notice things I had missed. What a gift.
And now. If you’ll forgive me, I have to talk to God about two little boys I know.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe God loves these kids more than we do. But he does.
He’s the one who made them.
About Anne Peterson
I write words you can feel, sometimes they rhyme. If I'm not writing, I'm telling stories from my head, to little ones who call me grandma.