You crept into our room before daybreak and lay down on the floor by our bed. You know you aren't allowed in the bed with us until it is light outside, so you just stayed there, on the floor, so quiet and good that I didn't even know you were there. Then Daddy noticed you and pulled back the covers for you to climb in. You were so quiet, so gentle, looking at your baby brother asleep on my chest. I knew that you wanted him to wake up and look at you more than anything, but you held back, just smiling and not touching.
When Daddy went into the shower, I asked if you wanted the baby beside you, and your face lit up. You put your face close to his, giving him gentle kisses and soft pats on the head, being so very careful not to wake him up. But when he did open his eyes, you whispered sweet words to him, assuring him of your love and constant presence, as if he had any question.
Then Daddy came back in the room and you cuddled and hugged and begged for rides on his back. You skipped and jumped and smiled your way around the room until your brother started crying, then you ran right back to him. You always do run back to him when he is crying, telling me he needs milk or bringing him a pacifier. Your sweet spirit calms your brother, and your smile charms him and everyone else around you.
You crept into our room before daybreak, Hobbes, waiting for it to be light. What you didn't know was that you brought the light with you.