“Familiar” is the operative word. For it wasn’t til just now that I realize “familiar” and “family” come from the same root. Things are familiar to us because they remind us of something very near and close.
Abigail has recently come to love drawing. This used to be (and, to some extent still is) one of my very favorite activities. As I watch her do it repeatedly (and we’ve never really encouraged her to do it- she is just gravitated towards it), I get chills thinking that she might develop similar lives to the ones I had (or have presently), and that is indeed a lovely feeling.
Children pull us out of our own lives. In the best possible way, they remind us that we are not the center of the world, that our thoughts and dreams and things we hold dear are not the only things. They open us to wonder and curiosity and, well… Joy.
And that makes me thankful.