I wrote this when I was a young mom, shortly after my first baby was born and I was overwhelmed by the love I had (and still have) for her.
Watching her sleep, so helpless and small
The greatest gift from God
The most beautiful miracle of all
Tiny and wonderful, full of love to give
She smiles in her sleep, having angel dreams
I reach down and touch her cheek
Stroking her soft pink skin
Looking into sparkling, wide eyes,
Laughing over a tiny upturned nose,
She has brought joy and love to an empty life.
A house is merely a building, a structure,
made of wood, and glass
stone, and plaster.
It gives shelter from the cold, safety from harm,
a place to rest your head.
Now fill it.
Fill it with love, and warmth
and welcoming arms.
Fill it with joy and laughter
tears and sadness.
Fill it with happiness, and grief.
Life. And death.
Now it is transformed.
It is no longer simply walls and windows and doors.
No longer only shelter, or safety.
Filled with these things it becomes
something inviting, and comforting;
Filled with love, filled with family,
the house becomes