"Where did the dark go?"

It had been a challenging day at the school where I taught, so I was looking forward to a quieter evening with my family at home. Not so! I was greeted at the door by our daughter in tears. The sitter, standing behind her, was holding our unhappy three-year-old son in one arm, with the other arm around our crying seven-year-old son. 

Well, tales were told. Our daughter was very upset with her best friends who had been calling her unkind names. This was too much for her to handle, especially coming from best friends. Our seven-year-old son had fallen off his bike earlier and skinned and cut his knees and leg. The youngest said his tummy hurt. I took the three into the living room as the sitter left with a glad-to-be-leaving look on her face. 

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180 grateful steps

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