Her hands grasp your cheeks as she peers at you with a questioning look, then a smile. She settles her head on your left shoulder, then your right, then peers again into your eyes and makes that soft noise that you know to be her greeting. You smile back and nod your head, guiding her back to you shoulder. She nuzzles into your neck. You can hear the little squeak of her pacifier as she struggles against the sleep that is soon to overtake her. Her breath is warm against your neck. The creaking of the rocking chair drowned out by the sound of the rain. Her breathing becomes more rhythmic, deeper. You know it is time. You watch the minutes tick by. The mountain of tasks awaiting you outside her door tumble over one another in your mind. One more minute, maybe two.. three. You make excuses to yourself, justifications for your delay. Close your eyes and savor the moments as they pass. Hold tight to the feel of her, the smell of her hair and the peaches on her breath. This is life, the reason for the struggles, the blessing you are not worthy of. There is no greater gift than holding a sleeping child.
