Two Words and Counting

I walked through daughter's front door, a surprise tucked inside my purse. "Pleeeaaase...two...two!" Grandson exclaimed as I entered the house. Oh, a happy tingle rippled down my spine. Blonde boy smiled wide as I stepped into living room. Brown-haired boy wandered over, maybe knowing that his brother had ingeniously engineered an extra treat. A quick survey of room told me that snacks had already been served. No matter, a grandmother has special benefits. I retrieved a baggie filled with organic animal crackers, headed over to sofa and took a seat. Silently I counted and placed an edible animal in each elfin hand..."One, two," I said. "One, twooo," echoed small boy, his crystal blue eyes jubilant, sparkling. Brother watched in peaceful silence, munching on goodie."Tank you," blonde boy said, a contagious grin pasted on his face. My heart truly melted, puddled onto carpet, liquid bliss. Supernatural power those two words contain, explosive in meaning, graceful swords.  Practicing again, we counted out crackers, one, two...tank you! Oh, you are ahead of the game I mused, a tank you planted on those tiny lips. We continued counting to two until bag was empty. "Tank you," I heard once again. In The Return Of The Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen writes: "Because every gift I acknowledge reveals another and another, until, finally, even the most normal, obvious, and seemingly mundane event or encounter proves to be filled with grace." My mind skated to words of truth, from the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise. I planted a kiss on each toddler head. One, two, tank you.