We needed an umbrella.
Not that I could have juggled it, really, while holding onto a two year old, a three year old, two soccer balls, a water bottle, and an off-in-dreamland six year old. We made it to the field just as the other six year olds were starting their soccer drills. The boy joined in while the rest of us kicked around the second ball nearby. I was feeling a bit supermom-ish, so I kinda deserved what happened next.
Rain happened next. Buckets of it. Unrelenting buckets of it.
I mentally ranted at the husband. I had wanted to put the boy in circus school, which is indoors, where it never ever rains. He was the one who had to suggest soccer, after which any discussion of all other options was a lost cause. Yes, soccer, that's what the boy really and truly wanted to do. Fine, I said to the husband. But you're taking him. I'm not standing out in the rain every Saturday morning.
So of course I was standing out in the rain that Saturday morning, and with three other kids too.
(Okay, fine. So he was helping some dear friends move. In the rain. It's not like he was at home, warm and dry and sleeping in. But whatever. That's hardly the point.)
As the rain got steadily worse, I did my best to keep the baby semi-dry under my hood while watching the boy play soccer and keeping an eye on the other two. As it really started coming down, I turned to check on the boys again, expecting that at least one of them would be in tears by now.
There they were, faces turned to the sky, mouths wide open and tongues hanging out. They lapped up those raindrops with joyous abandon. They didn't care about being soaked straight through, about water squishing in their shoes, about being cold and wet and umbrella-less. To them, this rain was pure gift.
It's hard to feel miserable after witnessing such delight. Oh, that I would live my life that way, joyous and grateful, face upturned and arms wide open to whatever the day may bring.
we will rejoice and be glad in it."
Just writing along with the EO...