Tag: children

Encouragement, Family

Summer Solstice and Hope

Mona Alvarado Frazier

 

Twittering birds began their rabble-rousing earlier than usual this summer solstice morning.

I enjoy listening to their conversations and energy as I wake.

This morning I’m praying for a better day for the thousands of detained immigrant children spending agonizing days and nights without their parents or someone to comfort them in their distress.

I’m praying for the moral treatment and morale of our country to do better.

I’m thankful for the hundreds of organizations, thousands of Americans, and others around the globe signing petitions, and calling on elected officials to do something more humane for refugees/immigrants.

My own personal problems are minuscule by comparison. There is no comparison for babies and children ripped from their parent’s arms.

I’m heartened by those who are showing up at airports, detention centers, and their elected official’s offices to show their support of the refugees and their anger about the existing law.

I’m grateful for the many organizations who are helping refugees and those who are using social media about the places to donate. (One organization is Raices).

As the quote above states:

Let all things live with loving intent.

Today, all things seem possible. I’m praying more people will live with compassion and loving intent.

Make your summer solstice day one of random acts of kindness, a supportive word, a hug, a smile.

 

 

Parenting

A Daughter’s Birth Day

Mona Alvarado Frazier

pexels-photo-302561.jpeg

Today, I’m reflecting on my daughters original birth day many years ago.

I came across the writing prompt “I remember…” and the memories came.

I remember focusing on the circle of light in the ceiling of the hospital room until finally, I felt a deep pressure and a tug.

I remember my baby in the arms of a nurse, a blur as she left my sight. An exhausted breath exhaled from my entire body, replaced by my tired smile.

I remember the gasps from my doctor. Seconds later another gasp from someone behind me.

I remember freezing in time.

“Oh my,” the doctor said and broke into laughter. A female voice giggled.

“What, what?!”

And then a chorus of “oohs” and “awws.”

Lowered into my arms was a healthy looking infant, rosy-cheeked, with a halo of just washed inky black hair standing on end. I couldn’t help tearing up and laughing at the same time.

Large eyes blinked, pink bow lips puckered.

I remember the moist baby scent of warmth; murmuring the words what a marvelous miracle.

baby girl with great grandparents
Daughter, four months old, with great-grandparents. Her hair is dampened down. http://www.alvaradofrazier.com

For months her full head of hair wowwed whoever saw her. They asked if they could touch her soft mane, fanned around her head like a fuzzy mohair hat.

Twenty-nine years later, my daughter’s hair is waist length, thick and beautiful. Today’s its emerald green.