Brock takes my hand and we wade straight into the surf. “Wait for it, wait for it,” I say, as the tide rolls in. When it crashes around our legs, he whoops and hollers. Over and over, we wade in and then scurry away from the pursuing waves.
Emboldened, he runs along the shore with his dad. Eyes flash, feet pound the sand and kick the surf, while arms pump the pristine air.
More shrieks and laughter.
All the while, twin sister, Blythe, scoops, pats and shapes white sand into what must be a fairy-princess castle.
Breaking away from her work, she takes Terry’s hand and leads him into the surf.
But soon, she’s back, scooping, patting and decorating her palace with a found shell.
“What a wonderful day, Mommy,” she whispers into the wind.
What a wonderful day, indeed.
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These children reside in our guest bedroom.
Brock thought they were he and Blythe.
I think he's right. Don't you? |
Shout for joy to God, all the earth! Ps. 66:1
