"I Would Gather Children"

Last summer Jason began telling people we plan to have five children. It was news to me. But I wasn't upset by his statements-- more amused than anything. Shocked, people would say to me, "FIVE?!? REALLY?!?" And I'd just laugh it off.

But truthfully, I have never really given any thought to the number of children we'd have in the end. I mean, I knew I wanted three. But I didn't foreclose on the idea of more.

There are plenty of reasons not to have a troupe of children, high among them the costs associated with raising them. I could post about the estimated cost of raising a child today, but it's not actually the point of this post. Children are expensive. It's true. But they are more than money-sucking-machines.

One thing I love about my parents is that they really appreciate me and my three siblings. And they tell us. They tell us how happy they are to see us happy. To see us enjoy our time with our own children. To see how in love we are with our respective spouses (and fiance in Megan's case). My parents know many people who have more expendible cash either because they opted for children-free lifestyles or because they opted to wait (and collect financial resources) before starting a family. And I've heard them comment frequently that they are happy they started their family young, happy to have four children-- they may know others with more cash, my dad recently told me, but they would be hard-pressed to find others as rich as they are. And he's probably right.

It's definitely a life philosophy.

Today I came across this poem, and it made me think of Jason and his announcement last summer that we were going to have five children (which we actually haven't decided, by the way-- all we've decided at this juncture is that we definitely want three kids). So I'll end this post with these words:

I Would Gather Children
-- author unknown

Some would gather money
Along the path of life,
Some would gather roses,
And rest from worldly strife.

But I would gather children
From among the thorns of sin,
I would seek a golden curl,
And a freckled, toothless grin.

For money cannot enter
In that land of endless day,
And roses that are gathered
Soon will wilt along the way.

But oh, the laughing children,
As I cross the sunset sea,
And the gates swing wide to heaven
I can take them in with me!