My big job

A portrait of me by our resident artist, Ever Knight. You just can't understand how much I adore his artwork. And this depiction of me? I've never felt more beautiful.

The Wig women were walking to school when Quinny spotted an old man gardening a few homes away. For some reason her four-year-old brain found this hilarious and she couldn't contain her giggles. I chalk it up to the fact that our weekly gardening crew all hover in their early twenties, but she kept saying, "Mommy, isn't it funny that that Grandpa has a job? He's a gardener!"

I'm rarely flustered by silly kid comments because they're pretty much the norm at our abode, and this time was no different. In my opinion kids have the best intentions, but they're little and sometimes need more information about the world to process what they are seeing or thinking or feeling. Also, I never want them to feel bad about asking or saying anything to me for fear that next time they won't, and I ALWAYS want them to come to me. With that in mind, I simply smiled and answered, "Everyone has to work Quinny, whether they're old or young."

She thought that over for a minute as we walked hand in hand down Glendon and then she looked up at me, brown eyes brimming with adoration and said, "Mom, you have a big job. And it's important. It's taking care of people."

Thinking she may be talking about friends, or members of our church, or even our community, but also super touched by her big view of my little life I said, "What people do I take care of, Quinny?" 

And without skipping a beat she responded with one word. "Me!"

I don't know why, but I can't get this little moment out of my head. It's been days but her giggles, her eyes, her reflection, her words, they keep replaying without beginning or end. Quinny was so sincere, so confident, so secure in the knowledge that I was hers, and she mine. She saw the big picture that I oft-times forget: I have a big job. And it's important. Bless her for that simple reminder.