Isaac: "I'm hungry."
Ethan: "I'll make you something. What do you want? Waffles?"
Isaac: "Yes, with peanut butter and jelly!"
(sounds of the freezer opening, silverware being removed from the drawer, and the toaster going down....)
I slid out of bed, smiling. As I walked down the stairs, I paused at the corner and watched as my 8 year old made breakfast for his 5 year old brother. My hands up under my chin, elbows on my knees, I soaked up the view: Ethan spreading a more-than-generous amount of PB and J on slightly burnt waffles; Isaac on his tippy-toes at the counter, squeezed up next to his big bro, watching and licking his lips like he was getting a steak--and then looking up at Ethan and smiling. I made a mental note never, ever, to forget that image.
Why was it so poignant? Maybe because we spend each day of our lives teaching our children to love others more than themselves. Maybe because I have made it my endeavor to show my boys that it is a joy to help others when they cannot help themselves. Perhaps it's because since they were born, I have never stopped praying that these two boys would love one another as best friends, not just because they have to share a mom and dad, but because they truly, honestly, love one another, and embrace their differences. And maybe...just maybe, it's because I know as they grow older, these moments may be few and far between, and I'm okay with that. I just want to have the reminder in my heart to use to keep reminding them.
When I finally came down the stairs to the kitchen, I took them both in my arms and squeezed.
Waffles are wonderful.