And stuff...

The blankets are tucked up around her. Her mismatched jammies cozied under the striped comforter. Her hair still damp from the shower sprawls over her pillow. Surrounded by her stuffed animal friends and clutching her special blankie and puppy. Hands come out from hiding to fold on her chest. Long eyelashes close over those brown eyes and all I see are the sprinkling of freckles on her button nose.

"Dear God. Thanks that I can have a good day and that Jackson can have a good day at school and that I could play with my friends and have piano and do good at dance and so could my friends ...and stuff. Thank you that Daddy can be safe at work so that he can work to make money so we have food to eat and clothes... and stuff.. and for the people of Haiti that we can give money to them then too. And while he travels for business or fun... and stuff. Thank you that Mommy can take care of us and do a good job and that she is safe when she travels and goes places. And that other people can be safe when they travel like for business trips and fun trips ...and stuff.  And for the people of Haiti that they can be safe and we can give them homes and food and clothes and stuff to live... and stuff. Be with J and O that they won't be missing their mom and dad too much and keep them safe... and stuff. Thanks that we can go to your House to worship you, thanks for schools where we can learn about you ... and stuff. And for saving us from when we do bad... and stuff. "

She packs a lot into '...and stuff.'

There is a lot of weight in those words. She knows His hands are in the "stuff." Named or unnamed. He's got it. She gave it to Him and just like that will drift into her peaceful sleep. Knowing He's got all the stuff in His hands.

She teaches me a lot in those moments... And stuff.