I’m not sure if it’s still true today, but those little meals you carried to school were more than just nourishment, they were a status symbol. We judged each other not only on the contents but the method in which you carried it
We chose to walk through the pain with our kids and teach them how to grow from difficulty
May all the broken pieces of our lives, the spilled bottles of paint, pencil shavings and dried-up markers, broken and forgotten crayons and the smashed pieces of chalk be crafted into the masterpiece our families will read in future generations.
There were many stolen swipes with my finger over the ice cubes embedded with salt crystals and then promptly lifted to my tongue as I savored the wet saltiness of summer.