Spilled Ink


It's typically the small things I stumble upon in my life that move me the most.  Things that force me to pause and rewind back to a certain moment and recognize what I completely missed at that particular point in time.  I remember thinking this past Friday night, after bringing my little girl markers and pens as she lay on our bed sketching, of all the possible places that her ink could end up aside from on the paper in front of her.  This afternoon, after finding this beautiful note that she left on my nightstand, I was reminded that a household littered in spilled ink would be an insignificant price to pay to keep this happiness in my daughter's heart, and also in mine, forever. ~~ peace.

Jamie Mink