The world is once again a better place. #8 has made his way into it with chubby cheeks, long fingers, and an extra helping of hair. Arriving overdue, he was a great relief to Wife as well as the event of the year, to anyone who is important that is. The entire household is just as happy about the new baby as ever.
I can see how a person might think that after seven children, the eighth would be old news. But, what I can tell them is that each birth is just as exciting and tremendous as the first. Granted, I enjoy a better understanding of what is happening and how best to lend a hand, but that doesn’t take anything away from experience.
Wife and the baby are sleeping, and in the silence I have a small moment to recollect. No matter which child I pick out of the group, I remember their birth; what was precious, what was scary, what happened in general. With each little one something more is added to me. I am a little richer. I am a little poorer. I am a little more understanding. I am a little more just. I am a little more blessed. I am more greatly loved.
Looking over my little toe heads I believe I have an understanding, however minor, as to why God puts up with us. From Adam and Eve on, mankind has mostly been filled with shortcomings. But we have within all of us the redeeming quality of love.
And now I look onto the fresh little face, nearly hidden by wrapped blankets, with that flat nose that all babies have. He will learn from his parents as well as his siblings. He will learn from his brother how to empty the pots and pans out of the cupboards. He’ll pick up how to wrestle in the front room and get in everyone’s way. He’s sure to learn from his sisters how to loath cleaning the kitchen. He’s likely become a master at evading his mother when she wants help with the laundry. And he will learn from us all how to love.
The world is certainly a better place.