Beautiful

She pulls her gear out of her locker, her light pink snow pants and polka-dotted hat.

How cold is it, Momma? Is it glove-cold?

Bundle up, sweetheart, I say, as I bounce baby on my hip and add banana to the toddler’s oatmeal. Two brothers are already sitting side by side at the table, swinging their legs, peeling hard-boiled eggs. Their favorite.

A few minutes later, she walks by, full ensemble: snow bibs, hat, scarf, boots, two layers of gloves. She carries an egg basket + the chicken tray, a large shallow container from carry-out months ago. It’s piled high with kitchen scraps and leftovers from meal prep and the toddler’s plate.

Thanks, babe. Stay warm.

She nods back and winks at me, then trudges down the back steps. She leaves footprints in the glistening white on her way to feed and water the chickens, gather the eggs, and give the goats grain.

My heart soars.

Confidence. Willingness. Eagerness. Playfulness.

All over our daughter’s face, bursting forth with every stride.

She’s beautiful.