the children are in the kitchen.
like moving water
ebb and flow
and lilt and sway
an occasional giggle
a shared laugh
scraps of song
knead through the collective conversation dough
and I can’t imagine a more delicious mix.
they problem solve.
they wonder together,
while all the while sometimes
silly voices enter in to decorate the moments.
movie phrases and
exaggerated voices skip in and out
and come and go
peppering it all,
their familiarity and fellowship is so unforced, so simple, so real:
that being privy to their time together is
– a gift.
this silent observation
– a privilege.
to listen in on such a pure and natural camaraderie
spells delight unrivaled.
for these children – these people –
in their thus far shared life
are as easy and as utterly themselves together as persons may be.
there is no pretense, no contrived persona.
there is only freedom.
there are only the raw and beautiful materials and good ingredients of lifelong relationship and shared and individual experiences to bring to the table.
there is play and there is together
there are siblings and there is delight therein:
and so… there is hope.