“Happy Birthday” little Daniel told me this morning as I fed him scrambled eggs for breakfast.
Actually, it sounded more like “Ha Borday” but I’m not fussy. I knew what he meant. The little guy was quite taken with the phrase and the song at his older sister’s birthday celebration a couple of weeks ago and he has been saying it and singing it at mealtimes ever since. We’re eating? Must be a celebration!
“Ha Borday to you, Ha Borday to youuuuu” he sometimes sings quietly, but then crumbles with embarrassment when anybody notices.
I pretended not to notice him this morning as I went about clearing the breakfast table, and so he sang. He squished eggs between fat fingers and sang. He slurped juice from a cup and sang some more. His tiny voice gained strength as he went on. With verve. With conviction. With unabashed enthusiasm.
“Ha Borday to youuuuu!”
And this is why, I thought to myself, God gives us babies. He sends them as sweet, singing reminders that world is good. And each day is a gift. Ours. To greet with joy.