Morning Gratitude

I'm on my knees in the dark of the morning, trying to squeeze in a morning prayer before the boys find me.  I can hear that Isaiah is waking up sad, and needs either a banana or a hug from me.  His cries come closer to the bedroom door, and soon his pitiful wail accompanies his tiny-fisted knocking.  I crawl to the door and meet his eyes.  I can't resist a hug and kiss, but then I am firm:  "Isaiah, I need to pray.  Go get a banana and I'll be in in a minute."  He is reluctant, and here comes Paul in his wake.  Maybe my prayer will have to wait. But Paul puts an arm around his little brother, with and says with tenderness and older-brother wisdom, "Isaiah, come with me and I'll get you a banana.  Mama needs to pray."  Isaiah lets Paul lead him back down the hall toward the kitchen, his arm still draped over his shoulder.  And I kneel again by the bedside and start with gratitude for loving brothers.