I am a working mother of two and weary from a long week I had just returned from the store. Lugging my groceries through the kitchen door my eight year old son eagerly awaited my arrival. He began to relate what his younger brother had done while I was gone.

"While I was out playing and Daddy was on the phone, T.J. took his crayons and wrote on wall in the dining room! It's on the new paper you and Daddy just hung. I told him you'd be really mad."

I let out a moan and emptied my arms of the groceries. "Where is your little brother right now?" I marched to his bedroom closet where T.J. was hiding. I called his full name as I entered his bedroom. I demanded he come out of the closet to face the music. For the next ten minutes I ranted and raved about the expensive wallpaper. How I had saved for two years and all the work it would take to repair the damage. The more I scolded him the madder I got. I collected all his crayons and markers and stomped from his room leaving him crying and trembling.

I headed straight for the dining room to survey the damage. From the hallway I could see the dark crayon markings on my beautiful pastel wallpaper. My fears were confirmed, it was ruined. Walking up to the wall tears flooded my eyes. The message I read pierced my soul and heart. The message read "I love Mommy," surrounded by a heart.

Well the wallpaper remained, just as I found it. I hung an empty picture around the work of art It was a reminder to myself when life becomes too hectic and I am bogged down with the chores of daily life, take the time to read the handwriting on the wall.

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