It’s easy to miss the small, simple things that keep a family together when you’re busy in the morning and during the day. We are so busy with our goals, to-do lists, and duties that we barely have time to breathe. Most of the time, we don’t think too much about how or why we do our tasks. But every now and again, something breaks that rhythm—a small, almost forgettable moment—that softly reminds us of what really counts.
My spouse maintained a basic pattern in the summer when the weather was pleasant and warm. Dad would drop off our 6-year-old son Luke at the babysitter’s house every morning on the way to work. We split up the task, and it worked out nicely because I could get ready for my day while he dropped off. I liked it, but I never really thought about how those mornings were. I believed it was merely a valuable part of our system and nothing more.
Things changed one Friday morning, though. My husband had a little cold that kept him home all day. When Luke requested me to take him to the babysitter’s, I said yes right away. It seemed like any other day. I got Luke dressed, put his bag in the car, and drove away. As I drove, I thought about all the things I wanted to do when I got back, including sending emails, running errands, and cleaning the house. The morning felt like a machine, like it always does.
But when we got to the babysitter’s house, which was a beautiful, familiar spot that Luke had been going to for years, something strange happened. I parked the car, turned to Luke, and said with a big smile, “Okay, buddy, it’s time to get out.” I was about to open my door when I saw him stroll up to it safely. I was ready to go.
But he didn’t do anything.
He sat still in his chair and gazed about, a little lost. I watched him and was shocked by how long it took him to perform something. He would normally get out of the car and go to the front door to start his day.
“Why don’t you go inside, dear?” I leaned in and asked quietly.
He looked at me with big eyes and whispered in a quiet voice, almost like he was upset, “Dad always goes inside with me first.”
His simple words truly struck a chord with me.
That little thing that happened affected something deep inside me. I thought it was just a simple drop-off, but it meant more to my spouse. He wasn’t just dropping Luke off on the street. No, he had been taking him inside. Every day. He would get out of the car, grab Luke’s hand, and walk him inside. He did his job in the best and most honest way he could, giving Luke love, comfort, and stability.
I sat there for a moment, shocked, as the weight of what I had just learned hit me. It made me feel small. The reason was not that I had done anything wrong; it was that I hadn’t seen the beauty that was right in front of me.
My spouse might have wanted to check on Luke, say hello to the babysitter, or give him a short hug before he left. But Luke thought it was really significant. He felt better after doing the simple yet meaningful ceremony. It showed him that he wasn’t alone and that someone cared about him. It also showed him that his dad cared enough to remain a bit longer.
And all of a sudden, the sunrise looked different to me. Every day I thought about Luke and how much he wanted to walk with me. He might have been looking forward to it. It could have made him feel braver. It might have changed how he felt for the rest of the day. He didn’t think of that small event as a footnote in the day; it was part of how he felt.
That meeting taught me a lesson I will never forget: love is often found in the small things we do every day. It can be discovered in the spaces between words, in the hands that are held, and in the additional steps that are taken when no one is watching. It doesn’t always make a lot of noise or cause a lot of trouble. In the morning, all you have to do is walk your child to the door.
I’ve been thinking about how we do things differently since that day. I don’t want to speed through the steps. I take my time when I can. I always walk with Luke, even when I’m busy. I now know that these small things are not small at all.
Everything to me.
And I think about how many of those nice things go unappreciated and unsaid, especially in families. We don’t always say thank you for them. We don’t always see them until they stop or someone else takes their place. But they’re there, these silent strands that hold us together every day.
That one normal morning in the middle of a normal summer changed how I saw the world. It made me remember to live in the now. It helped me understand more. And always keep in mind how powerful a single, ongoing act of love may be. It could mean a lot to someone else.