Gratitude: LOVE
This week, we've been highlighting posts from year one of the blog which focused on deeds; but today, I'm going to post from year two, on gratitude (2012). You see, today our daughter turned 20, and our son graduated from Middle School. AH. It's one of those days that reminds me to my core that I could not possibly express enough gratitude for all of God's blessings, most special of which are my children. 
My Sunshine - The minute you were born, in Geneva, Papa held you and you looked at the world around you so intensely with the most luminous eyes, we started calling you ‘luminosity’. When you were about four, in our apartment in Paris, I would have to print long documents and the printer would make this loud, monotonous sound, but you would start to dance. When you were about nine, in Houston, and you learned that kids in many countries couldn’t go to school, you decided to change the world.This past year, when the stresses of being a high school teenager in a ridiculously competitive, consumption obsessed, cookie-cutter fostering environment became too much, you showed your true mettle. You suffered, but you held on. You questioned, but you never gave up. You are my strong, brave, spirited, compassionate, courageous girl. I will never leave your side. You will never leave my duas. We will always persevere. InshAllah. 
Zaydubean - I love the fact, that of all the gadgets and gizmos that you could have wanted for Eid, you chose … a turtle. It reveals so much about the amazing little guy that you are. Curious about the world, and all its inhabitants; in love with nature, and all its wonders; compassionate for life, in all its varieties. For weeks you researched turtles and tortoises – what they ate, where they like to live, what makes them happy. You couldn’t talk about anything else (even cars took a back seat!)Yesterday you chose Georgie, your tortoise. While I’m thinking, with our ever growing number of pets, how in the world did I end up on the set of “We Bought a Zoo”, you’re beaming from ear to ear imagining that heaven must have lots and lots of creatures. This morning you woke up and asked, “Was I dreaming mama, or do I really have a tortoise.”You melt me, Zaydubean. With your smile. Your laugh. Your wit. Your gentleness. Your love.