My children came home from school with hands behind their backs, and light bouncing in their eyes.
"My teacher said I could choose whether to give you your present now or wait until Sunday. Can I give it to you now?"
I settled down to receive these precious presents...a homemade card, complete with an original poem (he honestly used a word I have never used before -- I didn't even know what it meant) and a priceless personal message; a book of quotes and a 'bouquet' of flowers with love notes and coupons written on them; a beautiful, glazed tile with a big, pink heart in the center, all wrapped up in a decorated bag (#3 decided she wanted to rewrap it all and give it to me again on The Day, so I have been instructed to forget that I ever saw anything from her).
The thought I had tonight, at the end of a hard day, is this:
To be loved by a child is to feel the love of God. (And yes, now I have Les Mes songs ringing through my head....)