As we sit down to share a meal

Noelle is trowelling tiny, cut-up spaghetti into her small mouth.

"Mmm...so good," she says. Pure, heart untainted, pleasure expressed.

She's enjoying her meal and so am I.

Then suddenly, "I love you, Mommy. Thank you."

Then she wants to thank God for all sorts of things. For the spaghetti. For the chair. The water. The playdough. So as we shovel spaghetti into our mouths, we punctuate our eating with "Thank you, God, for the delicious food...for Hello Kitty...for Gummy Bears..."

When the spaghetti runs out, I get up to pull strawberries out of the fridge, and Noelle says, "Pray [for] Mommy." She folds her little hands and says, "Dear God. Thank you [for] Mommy."

My heart explodes into a million dots of fiery lights.

I am thankful, too, dear Child. And dear God, I am thankful to You for all that you've given me and continue to give me.