Yesterday around supper time, as we were clamoring to our dinner seats and bribing our children to eat their vegetables, a family on the other side of town was frantically searching for their four year old son.
As we were begging our children to just take five more bites of their untouched plates, this family was screaming for their neighbors to help them find their missing boy.
As we were demanding our children just sit still and stop playing around, this family was dialing 911 frantically making a missing child’s report.
As we were finally losing it when our children’s dilly dallying caused their glass of milk to spill across the entire table and pour in a splattering puddle upon the floor, this family and their neighbors and the police canvased the nearby neighborhood looking for this little boy.
As we were frustratingly sopping up the spilled milk, grumbling as we emptied a wasted dinner plate into the garbage, this family was watching as their four year old son was pulled out of a backyard pool.
As we were scraping the left overs into Tupperware containers, this family watched helplessly as policemen and emt’s desperately tried to revive their precious son.
As we pushed the final chair in at our dinner tables, this family watched policemen take a blanket, covering their youngest child, their only son, for the final time.
Tomorrow, dinner time will come around again….
I pray that as this family sets one less plate at the table, that we focus more on our children than on the vegetables they haven’t eaten.
That we worry less about what’s left on their plates and more about what is left on their hearts.
That we demand ourselves to embrace their childhood antics and giggles across the dinner table.
I pray that we hold this little boy forever in our hearts. That we remember, always, just how quickly it can be snatched away. Just how soon they will be all grown up. Just how fast a blink of an eye truly is….
I pray, that we stop crying over spilled milk.