Dancing Shoes

I spent yesterday catching up on things that had fallen by the wayside during our recent absence. There’s nothing that feels quite as good as coming home after an extended trip. I don’t know anyone who is more of a homebody than me, despite the fact that I so like to travel.

Some days it’s hard to see the hand of God in your life, but yesterday was an exception. We have six grandchildren ranging in age from 14 (who we were lucky enough to welcome to our family when our youngest son got married a year ago) to six months. Yesterday evening, the 5-year-old had a song-and-dance performance at her elementary school.

We all sat on the gymnasium floor (no easy task when you are old and out of shape!) and watched the kindergarteners file in. There was our Miss A, proudly wearing a crown that she had decorated with colored pasta that looked simply fine with her black dress and rhinestone necklace (the girl was born to be a princess). She was in the front row center (either placed there by the teacher or, more likely, placed herself there) so we had a good view as she performed.

As trite as it may sound, what more profoundly shows the presence of God than the happy singing voices of children? Her mother and father, her two sisters and her brother, three grandmothers and one grandfather, and an aunt and uncle watched Miss A’s performance. Our grandchildren are lucky enough to know what it feels like to be surrounded by love.

Off-key as the voices were, and despite the fact that the dance steps were not always in synch, the children sang their ever-loving hearts out with pride. They are God’s gifts to us.