Ikebana

Araceli, Araceli. If she were a flower arrangement, she would be huge and flowing and vibrant, containing all different types of flowers, from the most fragile to the heartiest, from delicate lilies to intensely colorful tropical wonders.

As Araceli's mom, I feel like I am required to tap every mental and emotional resource I have to bring out the best in this rare girl, just like a Japanese flower arranger would finesse her subject with the greatest care. Ultimately, it's not an outside force that makes Araceli grow, however, but the drive within her. That she develops in her own way is as inexorable as the progression of a plant from a seed. My only hope is to offer some pruning to encourage her direction.

Tonight, everyone had somewhere to be except Ari. I wrapped her in a blanket and grabbed her book...something about fairies. We vowed to finish the whole book, and we did. Ari was delighted at the end that it had taken an hour and a half. As I turned down her bed, she squealed, "I got tucked in for an hour and a half! And it's not over!" It was her turn to say the prayer, and she started with, "I am thankful for Mama." Then she paused for the longest time before saying, "That's all."

It was a beautiful prayer with the simplicity of a single blossom. In the cascade of flora that is usually Araceli, I treasure that one single thought. I understand, because with all I have to be thankful for, I'm also thankful just for Araceli.