There’s a poem, something about dust and cobwebs and children growing up too quickly? I’ve seen it on cards and on little pictures for babies’ walls and I’m sure if I googled it, I would be able to find it in a few seconds. Maybe I will before I finish this post.

Dad wrote last week about graduations and, basically, celebrations of significant life events. These kinds of celebrations are important and wonderful. But today I’m celebrating the small. Today I’m celebrating sun and farm and children and life. Because, while small may be ordinary and familiar, small is not insignificant.

Song for a Fifth Child

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow,
for children grow up, we’ve learned to our sorrow.
So settle down cobwebs and dust go to sleep,
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

Ruth Hulburt Hamilton (originally published in Ladies Home Journal, 1938)

Yes, I looked it up. You knew I would.

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