Never mind the mess, the seven hundred thousand bits of tissue paper littered across floors and tables and chairs, looking quite a lot like snow. Never mind that.
Because I love crafting with my children; I'm perpetually fascinated to find what their fingers will shape, these people who are from me, so much like me, and yet wholly apart. I remind myself that one of the most pleasurable sounds is their laughter as they stretch on tiptoe and drop their tissue paper snowflakes from the back of the couch, delighting in the tipsy, fluttering fall.
I'm immersed in beauty, if only I'd choose the clarity to see.