My daughter is a skipper.

A spontaneous skipper.

Moments arise, completely unannounced, and she takes flight. One tiny foot nearly grazes the edge of her ankle before long, and then the opposite foot does the same. Her arms swing so high I swear she could climb into the clouds at any minute.

Today, she skipped after piano practice. I told her I’d scheduled a playground playdate after practice, and she pushed the door of the music studio open like it was nothing more than a safety cone, blasted out of her path.

Her candy pink sneakers touched the pavement for only a moment, tapping the ground like a raindrop bursting into a million tinier parts.

“Mama,” she said. She still calls me Mama and I love hearing it more than I love the sound of soft flowing creek water.

“Mama, this is the best part of the day! It’s so beautiful outside! Take me to the playground!”

She demands this, but I don’t notice. I want to go, too. I want to skip into the sunshine.

She likes piano, but being outside incites something else completely wonderful inside of her. And it bubbles out in the form of this joyous skip.

Sometimes I skip with her, but mostly, I watch and soak it in. And I find peace in her skips: the small ones, the daintier ones, the bold ones, and the high ones.

I find peace.

What brought you peace this week? Share the peace!