My daughter and son bickered just before they started their bedtime routine last night, over some shared toys. An hour later, little brother found his sister's stuffed tiger that she'd been searching and quietly placed it in her bed.
This poem by Naomi Shihab Nye captures that bond, seemingly fragile and easily threatened by the most insignificant little nothing, but in reality, strong and robust.
My brother, in his small white bed,
held one end.
I tugged the other
to signal I was still awake.
We could have spoken,
could have sung