Kindness by David Wilcox

“I love your sense of humor
I love to see you smile
I love your sense of balance
I love your sense of time.

I love your music in the morning
Your rhythm in the night
But it’s your kindness
That shines so bright.

Yes, I love your beauty
I love your sexy moves
But more I love your honesty
You always tell the truth.

Yes, I love your wisdom
Your knowledge of the past
Your willingness to listen
Your taste for what will last.

I love your compassion for the suffering
And your solid happiness
But it’s your kindness
That I love best

I love your vision of the future
Your hope that never dies
But it’s your kindness
That clears my skies”

There’s just something so innately attractive, magnetic about kindness…

I’ve been thinking a great deal about it lately because my little Hudson is the beneficiary of so much kindness. Practically makes my heart ache, eyes mist. (Hudson’s my youngest, w/Down syndrome). And because I get to be Hudson’s mom, I experience the kindness vicariously. There’s just something deeply moving watching people love other people. All kinds of people.

Want to truly love someone? Love their children. Those precious little ones they tenderly carried, brought into the world. Nursed, kissed, cuddled, diapered, rocked, nurtured. Loved on and wept over. Simply love their children. That’s how I feel anyway.

Thought I’d share a few of the beautiful kindnesses I’ve witnessed along Hudson’s journey …

Story time with Mr. Doug…

Smiling at five months with Miss Dianne…

Swinging with Miss Nellie…

First steps with big brothers…

Jammin’ to Christina’s funky chords in music therapy…

Hangin’ in new skinny jeans from Auntie Sheryl…

Anticipating the big one from Jonathan…

 Crawling through Susanne’s tunnels at physical therapy…

Snuggles with Dad and Charlie on a chilly day…

I love your compassion for the suffering
And your solid happiness
But it’s your kindness, that I love best

To all you kindness angels out there: it’s your kindness, that I love best.

Kindness. Hudson, he swims in it. Everyday. From the cheerful white-haired school bus monitor he adores. From his pre-school teachers. From the cashier, that smiley-face orange “paid” sticker she draws for him. From aunts and uncles. Friends and brothers. Cousins, grandparents, therapists. Hudson’s a blessed little boy, making me one blessed mama.

Kindness is alive today, even thriving. And we get to experience it, every single day. So blessed are we.