There She Is | Celeste Johnson

There she is, my little angel: precious, sweet, and pure. Lily clutches her stuffed tiger. Its poor ear almost off and hanging on for dear life. It is proof – proof of a loved animal. Lily’s crystal blue eyes are closed; her breathing is steady, chest rising up and down, while her mind dances around in her playful dreams. I bend down to kiss her porcelain cheeks; my lips feel the softness of her skin. Stirring ever so slightly, her eyes twitch under her eyelids and long brown lashes. I can hear her increased intake of breath and a satisfied sigh as her slumber continues. Looking at my adorable 6 year-old and watching her sleep, all my frustrations melt away.

There she is, my other little angel: precious, sweet, and pure. Rebekah has a book nestled in her arms; it wasn’t there when I put her to bed. That little sneaky girl is always trying to squeeze more reading time out of the day. Rebekah’s chocolate brown eyes are closed; her breathing laced with a slight snore, lips partly open, dreaming of princesses in far away lands. Her red lips beckon me. I slouch down, and softly kiss her lips like I have since she was a tiny baby. But now my baby is 8 years old. Time has flown too swiftly. My kiss startles but doesn’t wake her; she changes positions and continues to sleep. Watching her innocence while resting, I let go of the daily irritations.