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Coffee For Your Heart, News I don't want to Miss

It's a wintry Wednesday.  Schools are closed and snow kissed all the sidewalks and frosted tipped the grass.  The perfect January day.  I'm linking up with Holley Gerth at Coffee for Your Heart  to write a few minutes about something uplifting...

I used to be someone plugged into the News.  I always had talk radio playing in my car.  I wanted to stay relevant and aware of all the news going on around me.  I wanted to be informed and not swallow lost in the great chasm of life and more particularly motherhood.  I remember even when I became a stay at home mom I had those programs on while washing dishes and doing chores.  My radio broke, because some little girls shoved too many cd's into the player at once and that was the end of me and talk radio.  I'd still turn it on in the car sometimes, but my kids did not appreciate all that information.
Slowly but surely I became that woman who really did not know the every day happenings of the world around her.  I didn't read headlines filled with hopelessness anymore or listen to political strategies and banter.

I laughed at myself sometime last year when my dad asked me, "Did you know _____?" Eye brows arched over some headline.  I had to admit that I didn't.  I was actually unaware of a lot that went on as the world fast twenty four hour spun.  
There were some days that I wrote the wrong date on check books or lived all day thinking it was the twelfth rather than the thirteenth.
Some days I still do.
I try to watch the news a few minutes each morning, but a lot of mornings it never occurs.

A couple of weeks ago I received a different type of news.  One that is hand delivered to my bedroom door and painstakingly written out in sharpies.
My almost seven year old decided two weeks ago that she wanted to write her own news paper.  She was committed.  She divided papers into four columns, sketched out illustrations, and came up with headline captions.
That first night she decided to make her "Daily Nibbler News" (yes, that is from the Fivel movies) she clutched that marker and her eyes were furtively concentrating on all the ins and outs of her new journalist venture.  She's a little visionary, so there upon the first day she was already trying to figure out when she would be writing her columns every day and when she would deliver it.
She is not an early riser.  She is my girl who is hard to get up.  Almost like teenager.
The first morning that the news paper was set to arrive, I was downstairs looking at the sunrise and light was just starting to spill in the windows.  I heard a rustling upstairs and two feet jump out of bed soundly.  It was Meredith.  I heard her rolling her newspaper up (quite thoroughly too) and then getting out a plastic bag for a protective barrier to shield the paper from all the elements that are found right outside my bedroom door. :)
Then I heard her tiptoe over the old hardwood and gingerly lay the plastic bag next to my door and then she dashed back off to her bed.  I was downstairs drinking coffee and smiling big as I knew what she had just done.  I was still somewhat astonished that this late sleeper had woke up of her own volition just to deliver her paper.
I quietly snuck up the stairs and saw her fast asleep again, her straw colored hair spread over the pillow and her eyes closed shut in sleep.  At my door was the plastic bag and in my hand was a cup of coffee.
I walked downstairs to open my news paper up and drink my coffee.  Its been all those years since I lived at my parents'  home that this combination has ever been possible.  I haven't had a paper delivered in years.
My heart skipped as I saw the pictures of her news, of her world.  There was a column about the games she and her sister had played.  One column depicted her baby sister with the caption, "Moriah is Sick" and then there is a reoccurring column that appears every day since that says, "Meredith's birthday." Which is happening next week.  A large 3 tier cake is in the picture.  I don't know if that is supposed to be a hint to me :)  But I know I won't be forgetting it.
Its been all these mornings and I heard my little deliver girl again this morning and every morning the same smile spreads across my face.  My news has changed a lot, but it couldn't be sweeter.
That is one beautiful thing about staying connected to the people you are actually living life with and not just being lost in what is happening outside of your door, beautiful moments happen.  News worth your knowing really gets shared.  Hearts open up.

 On a humorous note as she sat in her bed the other afternoon with her sharpies for a couple of hours planning out her next journalistic move I've been informed that real paper boys deserve a tip or some type of payment plan.  I guess that is in order :)

Happy Wednesday

Journalist in the making, or at least the one around here 

Comments

  1. This is too cute! I love this! My daughter is now in college but I remember here doing the same kind of thing.

    I love this line: "That is one beautiful thing about staying connected to the people you are actually living life with and not just being lost in what is happening outside of your door, beautiful moments happen."

    That is a great reminder to keep in our perspective! Thank you for sharing this with us! Stopping by from Holley's place! :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Somer,
    What a perfectly delightful idea of your daughter's to write her own paper! How cute that she delivered it to your door too!

    Again, I feel as if we're kindreds as I got out of the habit of watching the news over the past few years. I felt like I should know what's going on, but when I watched it, that was all I thought about for the rest of the day -- and I thought it was time to think about things that were more uplifting.

    What could be better than your family's news delivered to your bedroom door? Loved this post of your budding journalist! :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. That is amazing! Kids have such personalities that emerge and make life fun.
    Btw, I would subscribe to that paper :)

    ReplyDelete

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