Our four-year old daughter, Carys, crawled into bed with us before 6:00 a.m. the other morning, as she often does.

 

She announced her presence by saying, simply, “I’m made of love and stars.”

 

Now, if that’s not a perfect way to think of oneself, I don’t know what is.  And, it’s true, literally and figuratively.  She’s literally made from our love and from the material the stars provided.  She’s figuratively made of the love and wondrous mystery that pervades this universe.

 

Carys offers up zingers like this daily.

 

She recently asked me whether love comes from light.

 

This past weekend she asked, “What’s the meaning?”

 

“What’s the meaning of what?,” I responded.

 

She gave me what seemed like a knowing smile and said, “Just, what’s the meaning?”