This morning, I woke up at 6:30 and stumbled to the kitchen, thinking about how I didn't want to get up, nor complete any of the thousand tasks that would start in T-minus 5 seconds. I thought about repeating this routine every day for the next decade: taking kids to school, loading the dishwasher, all of it. Impossible drudgery.
Then I looked up, and every window was ablaze with glowing amber light. Most of the leaves are gone off the trees now, yet somehow each tree was glowing. I remarked to Araceli, "Look at the light!" She smiled and said, "I know. I noticed that." We stood in awe for a brief moment, then walked outside, where the sky was rippled with pink and orange clouds, impossibly magnificent.
By the time we got to Davis High, the light was dead again, the sky a milky white. I said as much to Araceli. "What happened to the light?"
I felt differently than I had when I woke up, as Araceli hopped out of the driver's seat and I slipped in to drive home. I noticed beautiful things, like Celi holding a gift for a friend's birthday. High school students carefully pulling into parking spots. Leaves raked neatly into piles. Yes, everything was grey and brown, but I knew that if I peeked just under the surface, I would see the divinity of all of it. I envisioned a warm, amber glow just under the skin of monotony on the surface of our day. I knew that glow was there because God created a glimpse of it just for me and Araceli to share this morning.
Then I looked up, and every window was ablaze with glowing amber light. Most of the leaves are gone off the trees now, yet somehow each tree was glowing. I remarked to Araceli, "Look at the light!" She smiled and said, "I know. I noticed that." We stood in awe for a brief moment, then walked outside, where the sky was rippled with pink and orange clouds, impossibly magnificent.
By the time we got to Davis High, the light was dead again, the sky a milky white. I said as much to Araceli. "What happened to the light?"
I felt differently than I had when I woke up, as Araceli hopped out of the driver's seat and I slipped in to drive home. I noticed beautiful things, like Celi holding a gift for a friend's birthday. High school students carefully pulling into parking spots. Leaves raked neatly into piles. Yes, everything was grey and brown, but I knew that if I peeked just under the surface, I would see the divinity of all of it. I envisioned a warm, amber glow just under the skin of monotony on the surface of our day. I knew that glow was there because God created a glimpse of it just for me and Araceli to share this morning.
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