The secret of something so great and new

By The Young Mother: Adventures in wifery, motherhood, and life.

I'm waiting for my diploma in the mail. There's no commencement for December grads, but I don't mind. I do miss some sense of finality, some gesture of completion. Really, I just finished that last exam and walked away to find my husband and baby, playing on a rug waiting for me. Then we drove home.

I half expect to go back to school in a week or so. I barely remember the days before school, before following schedules. I am happy, but dazed. It's a fantastic idea that all these dreams are actually true.

I am a mother, and my little son is so healthy and strong. He crawls passionately-- if you saw him do it, you would recognize his excited zeal. He has six white teeth, and he giggles and smiles broadly, showing all of them in an open mouthed grin.

My husband works hard for us, and I love him. We are very happy, and he has been working days now for almost three weeks. We prayed for this for so long... The house we bought is perfect for us, and even our dog is nice. Big, slobbery nice. Life is good. We have so many blessings.

I've been cooking a lot lately, now that I'm home. Really, it's exciting. I haven't had time to do that sort of thing, and I LOVE the way the house looks when I can get everything tidy. My husband doesn't know how much time I spend on little things, like wiping away the smudges on the door frame, then nursing the baby, then playing with the baby, then kneading some dough, then getting him to nap... In such a small, peaceful way, life is beginning to take on this peaceful rhythm.

It is quiet during the day in the house, and I sometimes listen to the radio to news or stories on public broadcast. Other times I hum to myself or talk to Toby or tell him stories. All the while, our dog is nearby, following us from room to room.

In the evenings I am always happy to see my husband, and after sharing a little something to eat and talking about the day, I get a little time to read or write letters, journal, or tinker. He'll talk to me while he develops film or makes prints with his enlarger, and we listen for the baby to wake up on the monitor. All the while, the dog sleeps at the threshold. It is simple, but it is beautiful.

I think St. Josemaria Escriva said it best:
"It is in the simplicity of your ordinary work, in the monotonous details of each day, that you have to find the secret, which is hidden from so many, of something so great and new: LOVE."