Most every night, I tell the littlest boy in our house to say goodnight and give a hug. It’s not been so long that he’s learned to follow directions such as this and so, we have delighted in this snippet of success over the cold winter evenings.
One by one, he makes his way ‘round the room, his signature walk and acknowledgement bright amongst the fire’s flames. At four years old, his big brothers were mastering the art of riding with no training wheels and Amos?
He is learning to hug.
Tonight, the ritual began and when he hugged his oldest brother, he said, quite on his own, “I lub you.”
“And, I lub you,” said the twelve year old boy to the brother with autism and a rare genetic disorder.
Love doesn’t care about such things.