The other afternoon my thirteen-year-old daughter called me to her room. "Look, Mom! It's a baby!" Outside her window was an adorable bunny. The two of us "ooh-ed" and "aah-ed" as though we were standing in front of a hospital nursery window.
For the longest time, the bunny just sat and I began to think it was sick. But when my daughter tossed some celery pieces out to it, we saw it begin to nibble. That evening we researched baby rabbits and learned some interesting facts. Though it was small, our visitor appeared big enough to already be on its own.
On its own. That tidbit stuck in my head until I sat down to write this post. As a writer there will come a time when I have to give up my "babies" and release them to the world. And as a parent, the time I spent admiring a gift from nature with my daughter (and my other two kids also joined in after hearing our whimperings) was special. The laptops, the iPod Touches, the Wii, DVR'd episodes of Pokemon--all of today's modern gadgetry was pushed aside to vocally admire and appreciate a small, adorable, furry bundle.