Music begins playing faintly from the bedside table and I know it is my cue to awaken and start the day, but my body does not want to cooperate. I’m contentedly snuggled into my warm wooly blanket and tempted to keep on dreaming, but I drag myself from my comfortable bed and aim my feet in the direction of coffee. My early bird is waiting with excited anticipation for my door to open. He has been playing quietly by himself, anxious for someone to join him. I am greeted with hugs and smiles and “Can I wake up my brothers?” It’s a school morning. “Yes, let’s do.” But even with the sunlight allowed to flood the room and a “Good morning!” greeting, my night owl is far from awake. I shake his feet and pat his back. “Time to get up.” But he rolls over and pulls the covers over his head. He is like his momma. Coffee will be his friend some day. Beds made, teeth brushed. Another day set before us. A posse of 8 stomping feet come bounding down the stairs, racing for the breakfast table. God’s blessings in the form of noise makers and egg devourers. The joy of my calling. My gifts, who persuade me to embrace another day and cause me to be gratefully awake.