A Beautiful Mess

What I love about children is this: they don’t care.

My mother is going through a hard time. She is working the night-shift at the local hospital, cleaning rooms.

Her bills have piled up; most are over-due. Her hot water was shut off, among other things.

Tonight while she worked, I babysat my little brother Noah.

I took him out for ice-cream, we attended church, and when we arrived back at their apartment, I readied him for bed.

I pulled his Spiderman pajamas on, brushed his 4-year old teeth, watched him chew his vitamins, and snuggled him into the bed with a story and prayer.

Then I tended to some housework. I boiled a pot of water and washed the dishes.

As I scrubbed at Noah’s sippy-cups, I realized what a blessing it is that mom is going through this hard time while Noah is still young.

Looking back, he will not remember that mom has to boil water to wash dishes or to fill the tub; he won’t remember that we had to squish cockroaches in the living room, or that his grandmother stocks the cabinets every week so that they can have food.

He’s just a child who builds forts in the living room, who dances with me in the car, who ate two Happy Meals today.

He doesn’t care that they have no money.

He is full, he is warm, and he is happy.

Post-edit:

Thank you all for the sincere comments. I should point out that I do not live with my mother and brother and so personally, I am doing fine. They could sure use your prayers, though.

 

 

I am Al and even in this little mess, I still know how big I’m blessed.