Yesterday evening we took the twins to the park before bedtime. We put Eleanor in the swing (Henry was already asleep), and she smiled and yawned as she swung back and forth. That was adorable and sweet. But the sweetest thing was when a little girl, who had come to the park with her dad and brother, ran over to me and put a little flower she had picked into my hand.
She was maybe 4, probably not yet 5. She had been picking a bunch of little wildflowers, of the type that grow in parks, and maybe discovered some sort of surplus. We were the only other people in the park, so I suppose we were the most logical recipients.
I just loved it.