"...the moon sees me"

The moon outside the window rises round and white, so bright it throws shadows on the ground beneath the pecan tree.

An hour just passed. And in that hour, ordinary enough, a little boy bounced on a trampoline. Two little heads pored over a book and a magazine. A daddy paged through a tool catalog. A mommy smiled at her children over the top of her novel. A little girl catered to her brother's wishes, spreading blankets over sofa cushions for him to tiptoe over.

My Farmer read a tiny board book to Lil' Snip. Sugar showed us children's artwork from her magazine (while being tickled by Lil' Snip, who is always learning something new & useful), and read us horse poems, and the good jokes. (“Knock-knock. Who's there? Cash. Cash who? No thanks, I prefer peanuts.”).  Nice tried to distract Lil' Snip off of the trampoline (so she could use it) by teaching him how to open drawers in the filing cabinet.  Spice read aloud from her book of stories, dramatically, to anyone who would listen. Lil' Snip sat up straight beside her on the cushionless chair. 

On the elliptical, I laid aside my novel to listen to Spice's story, and gave Lil' Snip a ride till my arms begged for mercy. He's heaviest after supper.

Then we all kissed Lil' Snip good-night and my Farmer tucked him in. Coloring books and crayons came out till second bedtime was announced.  We sang and read and thanked God for the good, and now they're all tucked under their covers, tissues close by for the sniffly ones.

The moon is up in the pecan branches now, high over the house, full.

I'm full, too.

                    I see the moon and the moon sees me,

                    Hiding under the old apple tree.

                    God bless the moon, and God bless me . . .