Glow

I was going to write about fireflies dotting the cool summer evening.
They remind me of nights spent waiting patiently for them to land on my fingertips.
One second invisible and the next softly announcing their presence.

But before I could sit down to write, I got caught up in a different kind of magic.
A baby who usually sleeps peacefully on his own, but tonight needed some extra snuggles.
He’s too big for me to rock to sleep, and too big to fit comfortably on my chest.
Tonight I’m thankful that he was able to drift off to sleep in my arms while I hummed a hymn.
You don’t get to hold their little bodies for as long as you think you do.
Suddenly they’re not little anymore, and your arms burn and your shoulders ache.
Suddenly they’re falling asleep on their own in their cribs.
Just like the delightful glow of little fireflies, though, the sleeping face of my little boy reminds me of the tiny baby he once was. And I love it.