We spilled out onto the beach overflowing with umbrellas, buckets, chairs, and all the detritus that comes along with a family of five setting up camp in the sand.
And my girl, eyes wide seeing the curve of broken bits deposited haphazardly on the shoreline, is racing toward the water, catching up the pink pirate bucket in her hands.
She loves to collect things.
And when she is finished, her bucket groaning with the weight of it, she is talking circles around me about jewelry making, collections, and the beautiful broken bits of calcium carved up by the wind and the waves.
And I look at this girl of mine, who has meticulously sorted through her bucket with an artist’s eye and I am flooded again with awe at her, who teaches me every day how to live better between a Heavenly kingdom and this Earthly one …