It feels odd to come back to my blog after several weeks' absence, due to my daughter's severe chest infection and time in hospital, and to see that the last thing I wrote was about compassion for a hummingbird, and our Father's love for us.
She lay in the crook of my arm this evening as I made up a story about "Belinda Bear", to coax her towards sleep, and I remembered those same, bright little eyes, shining up at me during those first months when I fed her from my own body. Now she sings and talks and paints and skips; the chest infection lost its hold over her, and life has flooded back in to her hungry, growing cells. She laughs, loves humour, word play, mischief... her grandparents and her parents.
We said Thank You to God for giving us this day, and she carried her teddies to the cot, then came back to me for a hug, and to be lifted in, tucked in, and enfolded in the quiet peace of darkness.