She will

not be 2 years old until June, and she is not old enough

to leave home, but she thinks she is. Twice she has spent

the night with me. Eternal nights.

The first one was a few

months back and she had to do it because big brother was

going to do it. This time, last night, was the result of

a week or so of "Granengan's house, pease?"

On the last visit (the

all-nighter, that is) somewhere around 3 a.m. I decided

there would be no more of doing it because big brother

did - she would have to beg before she spent the

night with me again.

After her recent days of

"Granengan's house, pease?" which surely came

across as begging, she came again.

Oh, my.

I suppose we slept some...

I just don't know when. She was tired and actually asked

for "bed, now" early, so we retired shortly

after 9 p.m. We just didn't stay down for very long.

"Dark now."

"Light back on."

"Juice, pease."

"Dark �gin now."

"Light back on."

"More juice,

pease."

"Dark �gin now."

"Light back on."

"Ant bites hurt, kiss

�em."

Finally, we dozed again.

Until Bunny had to have some loving. And of course I had

to wake up and give it to him. There's a fuzzy little

duck stuck to Bunny's ear (Bunny was an Easter basket

rabbit one year) and I can't tell you how many times the

duck on Bunny's ear got kissed last night. We took turns

forever, until I began to beg, "Dark now,

please?"

She eventually agreed. She

even dozed at one point. Then the words arose once more

from the bundle of warmth tucked under my arm,

"Light on now, juice pease."

More juice it was.

More juice means more

diaper changes of course. There were four during the

night. And at this writing, as she sits here on my lap

pointing to the keys I should hit, I can't begin to tell

you how many more times we were up and down during the

dark hours while big brother and Granddaddy slept soundly

downstairs.

And the source of most of

the misery I feel this morning? I was not allowed to turn

away from her. I tried repeatedly. "Back" she

would say nicely, entreating me to turn back over toward

her before she would grab my shoulder and attempt to

force the issue. At one point, she inserted a tiny

forefinger inside my bottom lip like a fish hook and held

on fast until she dozed off again.

At other times during the

night, when I would attempt to doze, that same little

hand would finger my face, whispering softly, "Nose,

mouf, eye, ear." The ear was definitely her favorite

spot. I'm sure she knew every little dip and curve long

before daybreak.

Oddly enough it was around

daybreak before she finally dozed into what appeared to

be deep sleep. For two hours we lay there in quiet bliss,

until suddenly I heard the voice again, "Downstairs,

now."

She is no worse for the

wear. I, on the other hand, will feel the effects of the

night for days... and enjoy the memory for years.

I was talking with someone

earlier this week about what it means to be wealthy. He

said it means being able to pay bills on time, eat well

and enjoy life.

Then I recalled the words

of the preacher who penned the book of Ecclesiastes,

"Here is what I have seen to be good and fitting: to

eat, to drink and enjoy oneself in all one's labor in

which he toils under the sun during the years of his life

which God has given him; for this is his reward... For he

will not consider the years of his life, because God

keeps him occupied with the gladness of his heart."

And here I am, now, in this

moment, realizing anew that it's nights like last night

that give me gladness of heart and make me wealthy. Brief

moments, hours, days/nights spent with family and

friends, giving birth to memories that last forever and

making me rich beyond measure.

The Henry County woman

(Sybil) that I wrote about last week is still fighting

for her life. Valiantly from what I hear. Keep praying.

They are going to try to take her off the respirator

today. My sister thinks a miracle is in the making.

Sybil's husband, family and friends are with her,

encouraging, stroking, praying, standing by her. In

America today, that alone is a miracle. We all should

rejoice, as we keep praying.