Oh the sweetness of these my grandchildren! Their flawless skin, wide eyes, tripping walk.... turn a corner and down to the floor. Doesn't matter - the floor is as good a terrain to be discovered, distracted by a fallen trinket easily ignored by the tall ones. Fine hair forming into ringlets or framing their face, or pulled into a fountain on top; the scent of their heads inhaled contains a drug, a natural force that brings them care from the adult who is unaware of being bamboozled by the chemistry of this needy human form. Such a creation of perfection, this system, that draws care to their side when a boo-boo happens, and grandparents from across the miles to absorb their life force minute by minute, completely overtaken by their little soul's presentation on this earth. Were it not for this brilliant plan, this irresistible built in chemical insistence on care, where would we be? Would we be?
I am captured by these tiny presences in my life, drawn close, and would fight in a way no one would ever expect just to keep them smiling, healthy, living, growing, should it ever be required. This is an occupation bestowed on me by my Creator, who placed me in this time, in this place, among these charges. Here I am. Choose me.
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