Thursday, August 2, 2007

Desired Sacrafices

When the storm hovered over our little house around nine o'clock this evening we decided to go to bed. Chup with his flashlights and me in my swamp-cooler whipped hair. We opened the window and invited the storm in to our tiny bedroom.

The lightening!

The thundering!

The stillness.

And I was left wondering again, in the dark, quiet night.

What would I give up for motherhood, if I had to make a trade?

A night like this?