Pajama Day for Eliza and International Day for Isaac today at school. All to add a little more to the holiday flare. For the special teachers, I baked loaves of that braided Swiss bread that I usually make (not as perfected as my mom's, though), along with jars of raspberry honey butter. They always seem to like that.
Danish rice pudding was our offering to the tasting table, as this was the immigrant ancestor country he researched and presented. Our family Christmas Eve tradition. How fun for the children to see and taste and experience a little bit of culture this way.
I noticed and inquired about all those winter hats on each of the twenty children in the classroom. Shelby made them, Isaac said. I called her over to me and put my arms around her. Amazed. Tears filling my eyes. "You knitted all these hats, Shelby?" I wondered. She nodded silently with a knowing, bright smile. She and her mom had been working on them for ever so long, she said. Something special and from the heart for all her friends.
Now, this is love.
Didn't it just seem like yesterday that I moved her down there in the first place? And now, with her first ever college finals behind her (which she passed with flying colors by the way), and the happy looking forward now to just breathe and enjoy a couple of quiet weeks at home, we both knew that this called for a celebration.
A sweet potato fry kind of celebration.