Saturday, November 16, 2013
To the Boy Next Door
I woke up with a sore throat this morning, and I've spent the day lazing about my bed slipping in and out of sleep. All day I've heard you singing. And it's reminded me not to be grouchy at my children for their laughter that has woken me up when I've least wanted to be awake.
Your family moved into the house next door 11 months ago. Within the first month, they had built a tall fence to keep you from leaving the yard, and a swing set to keep you happy. And every day, rain or shine, snow or heat, I hear your song.
We had such high hopes when the moving truck pulled into the driveway that there would be friends moving in next door. You see, you and your brother are the only children my children's age on the street. When you came next door to swing on our swing, we quickly learned that you were non-verbal. When you came into our home and left again without us even knowing, we learned that you needed protection. And every day, I hear your song.
Some days, I sit on my front porch and lecture my children for some irritant, usually their choice to not do their chores. We work and toil in the heat to clear the weeds. We laugh and cry. We are a family. And every day, I hear your song.
Sometimes, when I hear your song, I am thankful that I do not have the struggles that your parents do, that I can speak to my children, and have to speak to me. But most of the time, I am just thankful that I get the chance to experience the joy that you bring to my day. The joy that swinging so obviously brings you. I am thankful that you have parents that send you outside to swing in the dark before the bus comes in the morning. I am thankful that when I wake up, the first thing I get to hear is your joy. And every day I hear your song.