In most things I tend to think of Lucy as her father’s daughter. She is quiet, methodical, organized, and neat. She sets a realistic goal and pursues it. She is disciplined and undramatic. How could she be related to me?
However yesterday Lucy had a day off from school, and at one point I looked up to see her sitting at the dining room table, wearing one of my aprons, making a list of her day’s chores. I thought, “Well, she’s her mother’s daughter, too!”
Of course the truth is that she is her own person. She is Lucy and she is a delight.
Yesterday she gathered and cut holiday greens to make a wreath around the base of our Advent candles. We’ve used the same purple, pink, and white candles for a few years so they a bit uneven in height and drippy around the edges, but Lucy is practical. “They’re fine!” she said, tucking in a stray bit of balsam.
I have to agree. God won’t mind.