The thundershower rolled in just as my extended family were all arriving for our Father's Day picnic. Thirty minutes earlier the sun had been shining but we could see the clouds rolling in from the west so I had gone ahead and set up everything indoors. The guests ran into the house laughing with rain-splattered backs and soggy shoes. By the time we'd finished eating, the rain had passed and off the kids went to explore. Sometimes I forget how fascinated kids are with frogs and tadpoles and flowers. They followed me around like the Pied Piper intrigued by the herb garden and wanting to taste them all...dill, cilantro, parsley, thyme, basil, chives.... They searched the vines for ripe peas in the garden and held out their little hands for more, more. They plucked the ripe mulberries as high as they could reach then persuaded their 14 year old cousin to pick for them. Life is sweet when you are two or three or four.

Their feet were muddy, their fingers purple and when their uncle sliced the watermelon they ate with abandon not caring at all that the sweet juices dripped off their chins and soaked the fronts of their shirts. Life is full of joy when you are one or two or three or four.

And when I see them full of sweet joy at the wonders of life it makes me joyful, too. It makes me remember to be grateful for the gift of each new day. So after they had all gone home I wandered over to the mulberry tree and I pulled off berry after berry and plunked them into my mouth, one by one savoring each one. I'd forgotten how sweet life can be... when we pay attention to the joy and forget about the messiness.