Sleepover And So Much More

We all take sleep for granted.
We assume, when our head hits the pillow, we will fall blissfully and soundly asleep.
For many, sleep is allusive.
For children, sleep is as varied as each unique child.

As an only child, I never had to share a room.
I commuted to college and worked during the week, so I never lived in a dorm.
The first time I shared a room was when I got married.
There were many adjustments in that first year.

I have three daughters and two sons.
When they were young, the house they grew up in had five bedrooms.
The girls each had their own room.
The boys shared a room.

When we moved to our current house, twenty-seven years ago, there were only four bedrooms.
Our youngest had her first birthday in this house.
She was still in a crib when we moved here.
She had her own room; the other rooms went to her sisters, her brothers, and to us.

Our son and daughter-in-love have two daughters.
Each girl has their own room.
A picture was sent to all of us the other night.
The girls were having a sleepover together.

The five-year-old was sleeping on the floor of her sister’s room.
Her daddy dragged her mattress, pillow, and comforter into her sister’s room.
The littlest one, who will be two-years-old this week, is still in a crib.
The two girls looked so happy to be together.

The decision to do this was so that the girls will be ready for the beach.
Our entire family goes to the Outer Banks each summer.
There will be seventeen of us in the house; six of whom are children.
Our son and daughter-in-love wisely wanted the girls to be used to sleeping in the same room.

We saw a picture soon after the girls went to bed.
They were both sound asleep.
The next morning, our son sent us a video of the girls after they woke up.
The little one couldn’t stop talking to her sister.

She scattered words here and there, in her two-year-old way, that we could understand.
The older one, was sitting on a chair next to the crib.
She listened kindly to her sister.
Then, in her big sister way, she said, You did well sleeping!

My heart melted.

I saw a little Barnabas.
I heard a little encourager.
In her own five-year-old way, she knew that this was a big deal.
She came into her little sister’s room, not as an intruder, but as a welcome guest.