treasures of the heart

This is my view every time I leave home, and every time I return home. Little treasures collected by Ezra over the years and brought home.

The flowers are from the sensory box at the child care center he attended from the age of two to five. This box was always filled with something fabulously messy like sand, baking flour, or water with bubbles. Hidden inside the sand, flour, or bubble water were toy cars, plastic bugs, little buckets with shovels and rakes...and little plastic flowers. Ezra would come with his pockets full of plastic flowers and as he presented them to me he would say, "mommys gep fwowers!" I should have return them...but I didn't.

The little stones and beads are treasures mined or otherwise discovered from the playground at his school. Each afternoon, for the last year and a half, he would unload his pockets onto the kitchen table to show me the beautiful stones he found to add to our collection. I joked that we may need a dump truck to return the stones after his 6 years in school there are over; but he doesn't bring stones home in his pockets anymore. I should return them...but I won't.

Bring a parent is a most curious position. I encourage my son to grow, mature and become more independent. I celebrate the milestones he reaches. And with each marked change, my heart breaks jut a little.