There is a feeling that comes when my kids run to me when I walk in the door.
The same one that came when I read that love note on a napkin in a school-time lunchbox. It’s the sweet tingling of my fingers as I open an anonymous envelope on my desk and read a thank you.
Or an “I believe in you.”
Or a “You are special to me.”
It is a tangible, palpable feeling that someone cares about me in abounding amounts. I love knowing that someone adores me. And loves me fiercely. And believes in me. And hopes for me. You know, that love cannot be contained in this heart of mine.
It spills right out the top.
I feel compelled to share it with others. To send the letter. To lift the hands. To offer a kind word.
In a world that drips with sadness, there is so much good we can do to reflect love.