MIRACLES WE TAKE FOR GRANTED

As many of you know, we've welcomed three beautiful, healthy little grandsons into our family in six months--an obvious blessing for which we have given thanks over and over. The last little on came home on Easter Day, which seemed a sublime way to mark this day of hope and promise.

Sadly, it was also about then when I received word that a writing friend lost her daughter while playing a silly game in her room. She and her sister had done it plenty of times--tying bedsheets to the posters of their bunk beds to form a swing. This time, the one girl did it herself, and somehow ended up tangled in the sheets. She passed before anyone even knew she was in distress.

Our hearts always break at such a tragedy. it seems particularly sad when a sweet life is cut short not by disease, nor by violence over which you want to rail your fists and shout, but during something as seemingly simple as play.

The mother found the presence of mind to post her daughter's tragedy as a warning to parents to note what games their children play, and to issue a tender request. She asked everyone to hold fast to their loved ones, to not miss opportunities to love them and laugh with them, to enjoy their sweet company. It pierced my heart.

It made me so very grateful--not just for my good fortune of healthy children and grandchildren, but of Easter, and the promise of new life through the Atonement and resurrection of Christ. Bunnies and chocolate took a back seat to gratitude--for me, for my friend, for all of us--that hope conquers death, and that the miracle of love should be savored every day.

I don't often wax so philosophical, but there are seasons when what really matters becomes so clear. Tell someone you love them today. Drive that assurance deep into their hearts. Then remember to offer a prayer of thanks.