Families are like quilts.

My son laughs easily and often.

There are times when he becomes so lost in his joy, he intuitively rubs his hands together as though he is stoking a fire… burning and blazing for even more joy.

I have seen others do this: his father, grandfather and great-grandfather. Cut from the same mold, they are. It is the most remarkable thing…

To be stitched so intimately together by something as simple as a gesture.

The world is good. I find proof of this in such things.

Leave a comment


email* (not published)