it was a moment so small, like the seed of an orange, and the sun was bright like that, like an orange and the world peeling thick around us and all i wanted was to take him for a bike ride.

and i’d buckled him in with sippy cup and cookie and we’d rolled out of driveway making the sound of gravel when the loud noise came, a bell-ringing-school that shattered child-equilibrium, and the small moment suddenly became so big it swallowed him up in tears.

and i swallowed back mine as we turned back and there was no more bike ride, there was no more wind in hair or sun on face and how i’d wanted just wanted to ride.

no one saw us. it was just him and i, tear-stained mama and baby sitting on the deck staring at the wheels of a bike. and i could choose to hug him close or feel sorry for me, and it was a moment so small it should have been insignificant but for both of us, it mattered, and so, i knew, how i acted, mattered.

so i pulled him into me and we held each other, and another victory had been won. another one of those wins that only divine eyes see. the kind that parents reap daily, the cathedrals built by names no one will ever know, the detail inscribed, like the bird on a rafter of a dome, that only God is tall enough to notice.

in heaven these small moments are the big ones. and all of us who feel invisible, our names are inscribed in bold, because without those cathedrals–without all of those seemingly insignificant details–no one would ever see God.

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