My son has been giving me a lot of stress lately. (I really think it is closely connected with his upcoming 8th Birthday, if you follow me on that.) So today when he was missing as the announcements started in Sacrament Meeting I headed out to find him, again.
It didn't take long, much to my surprise he had been outside picking me a flower, having been denied possession of one of the typical Mother's Day carnations. He handed me this little beauty and wished me a happy Mother's Day.
After we sat down he reached over and ran his finger over the petal, then reached up and touched my face. "It feels the same," he said simply, and my heart just glowed.
I know he gives his Primary teacher a work out, I know his curiosity is going to cost me thousands before he is grown, and I know most days are a battle of epic proportions; but right there, that moment, that's what is so wonderful about being his mom. There is something pure and bright inside him, a sweetness hardly anyone else knows, and as much as I wish he showed it more often, it makes moments like this all the sweeter.