"These were the boys and they lived together as happily as lads could, studying and playing, working and squabbling, finding faults and cultivating virtues in the good old-fashioned way. 

Boys at other schools probably learned more from books but less of that better wisdom which makes good men.  Latin, Greek and mathematics were all very well but in Professor Bhaer's opinion self-knowledge, self-help, and self-control were more important and he tried to teach them carefully. 

As Mrs. Jo said, 

'It was an odd school.'"

– Little Men

Wrote in my journal. 

Played soccer with the littles til the sun went down. 

Ordered shoes and suits for the wedding. 

Tried a recipe from a new cookbook.

Wrote encouraging letters to a friend. 

Read encouraging letters from a friend. 

Read my book. 

Read to the kids. 

Reorganized the Christmas stuff and put it away.  (It's not Valentine's Day yet right?)

Watched the sun come up. 

Listened to a child pour out a heart. 

Listened to another child's plans. 

Listened to a third campaign hard NOT to have to finish a book report book. 

Watched him choke up after finishing the book report book (The Yearling) and then sat and talked about how not all endings are happy. A recurrent theme this winter. 

Got on the treadmill.  A lot.

Took hot baths.  

Took my vitamins.

Took some breaks.

Drank a lot of latte – chai, pumpkin, ginger, you name it. 

Slept later than the schedule 'suggests'

And restored some equilibrium. 

Such a time this has been for my daughters.

Alannah opened the door to her infant room early one morning to be greeted with news that one of "her" babies lost his mama during the night when her helicopter crashed off the Norfolk coast not far from here.  Of course he was not "her" baby, but she and her little charges grow close over the course of their infant year with her. She comes to know them and their families as they team together to raise happy, healthy small people. Losing one of her team so violently and abruptly really knocked the wind out of her.  

What has followed in these days is not my story to tell, but I will say this.  While it is a story of loss it was also a story of love.  This woman was remembered as being the one who always helped anyone in need.  A tremendous legacy: to have been quietly supportive, encouraging, nurturing, to have walked out the door that day in peace and love.  A lot to ponder there if you are a young woman, or an old woman too.  

I am proud of my daughter as well for pushing past her sadness and honoring this woman and her family in small but important ways.  She has learned a lot about life and death the past couple years and the parts we play in other people's lives, even if they are only for a span of time. 

Tonight though, we moved forward at home, celebrating life in all its sweetness, because that is vitally important too. We weep with the weeping and then we rejoice with the joyful.  And there is much joy indeed because our Moira begins her last year of childhood today. All the promise of the future ahead of her. Today I feel so grateful to have been able to watch her blow out so many birthday candles. We go forward together, making every day count.  Knowing each are irreplaceable. The best of gifts.

"When you arise in the morning think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive –

to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.

– Marcus Aurelius