When it’s time to go to bed, I can’t walk past my children’s bedrooms without stopping in to check on them while they sleep. Tonight, I took an extra moment to sit still beside them. I rested my hand on Vivi’s chest and felt her heart tapping along beneath my palm. Peace. In Carlos’ room, I pushed the sweaty curls off his brow. He stirred then sighed. I put my hand over his heart and breathed in the quiet in his dark little haven.
There is no faster path to the present moment than feeling my child’s heart beating.
Léon Bazille Perrault “A Mother With Her Sleeping Child,” via Wikimedia Commons
Share this post with your circles!
-
Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
-
Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
-
Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)
-
Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)
-
Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
-
Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)
-