My Child: My Greatest Work Of Art
“My child is my greatest work of art.” You might hear this phrase, or something similar, at a mothers’ group, hospital waiting room or neighborhood club. However a mother chooses to say it, the underlying sentiment is clear.
And it’s not trivial. Whether or not you are blessed with artistic talent, there is no greater work of art or creation than the miracle of life itself.
This masterpiece takes 9 months to create, and a lifetime to develop. Voila! The greatest artwork of every couple.
My child, a work of art
Think about it: a mother starts to connect to her child even while the baby is still in the womb. She feels how this being, still so dependent on her body, takes on a life all of its own.
And she knows that this little one, who once formed part of her, understands her better than anyone else.
Your child feels your pain, just as they once felt the beating of your heart from inside you.
They know your strength, because they heard your sighs of fatigue, and the deep breaths that followed them, spurring you onwards. They felt you fight for what once seemed impossible.
Children come into life armed and protected with this knowledge. Defenseless though your child might seem, their tiny, adorable body holds the secrets of life itself.
My child, my greatest work of art, is capable of moving me.
My child possesses the strength, the power, the supernatural gift of transporting me to the past while I am here in the present, thinking about the future.
All three take shape at a single moment, through a single act of love: motherhood.
Infants inspire tenderness and innocence in us. Their ability to bring peace in our busy and bustling lives exceeds the power of any artwork. Their little jokes and expressions are more fascinating than the smile of the Mona Lisa.
My child exceeds any work of art
The smell of my child’s skin, their mischievous antics and everything they express in their gaze: this is greater than any work of art.
Watching a child grow up is as strange and fascinating as any of Frida Kahlo’s fantasies.
Seeing my child facing conflict, feeling hopeless or frustrated, is more disturbing than any work by Van Gogh or Munch. With their different facets and behaviors, in public and at home, my child are more multidimensional than a cubist portrait by Picasso.
The arrival of a child can shift your concepts of the sublime and the masterful. There is no museum capable of containing something so magical. And no work of art can compare to truth itself. This is a work that expresses so much, but inspires even more.
The draw of childhood is impossible to resist. My child is my greatest work of art – one which I am content to contemplate silently. I am a typical mother, enraptured with the being that has become the master of her life.
Immerse yourself in this work of art. Let yourself go. A kiss, a cuddle or a simple “I love you, mom” is enough to sweep you off your feet.
After all, your child is the fruit of your love, the incarnation of your shared hopes.
Stop, and appreciate your child. Observe all the details, take everything in. Feel blessed by each and every one of their virtues, and accept their little faults.
Enjoy their beauty and marvel at their natural grace. Discover in your little one the true meaning of the immensity of a love without limits.