postcards

Mail shingles the floor by the front door and as I watch Tolliver sift through it I'm still mulling over the same message that's been stuck in my mind all afternoon.  I'm feeling acutely aware of the way one nice thing can mean the difference between a good day or not.  The way hearing or reading one not-so-nice thing, one small observation, can leave a wound like a poison dart and make an entire day feel dour.

I am reminded of the way the world depends on the small beatings of every single heart.  The way all of us have the potential to be the difference for the hearts that beat near ours.

Maybe it was supposed to be a reminder, maybe I need to tell more people more often that I appreciate their kindness, that I enjoy spending time with them.  To call my mom, to tell my sister I'm proud of her, to let a friend know I admire the way she mothers.  To write more notes of encouragement, to bake more cookies for neighbors.  To tell you thanks for reading here.

Tolliver is a pro at spreading smiles.  I'm trying to channel all those nice feelings, the ones that make hearts beat happy and make humans feel loved.
I want to send more out.