Lewis Carroll in his children’s classic, “Alice in Wonderland,” wrote about an interesting character that I often relate to.

Now, it’s not the mischievous Cheshire Cat, nor is it the eccentric Mad Hatter, or even the confused Alice.


But instead, it’s the rushing white rabbit who, in Disney’s version of the classic, hurries past Alice carrying a pocket watch muttering the words: "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say hello, goodbye! I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!"

Ugh. The words of that hurried bunny sometimes swirl around inside my head as I bring my daughter to band practice 15 minutes after it starts. They taunt me as I painfully write down my “arrival” time at the doctor’s office, inwardly cringing because it’s long past the actual “appointment time” that I’m also required to write.

And, I can hear the rabbit’s ditty in the desperate tone of my son as he tries to get me out the door a half hour before his practice. I know he hopes that this will get him there on time.

There are days when I wish we could do away with clocks. How dare they try to dictate my life around their little clicking faces? Sometimes I feel that I’m judged by how well I obey the long and short hand of time.

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I knew the socks were going to be trouble the moment they caught my daughter’s eye.

Their trendy designs were bright and flashy and best of all, they had the days of the week written on all seven pairs.

“You’re going to lose one and then the

whole pair is shot,” I said shaking my head no.

You see, when we started our large family I was told by a smart grandma that plain white socks were best. That way if you lost one, you could easily join it with another and no one would be the wiser. 

But the puppy dog eyes came next and, although I usually don’t give in to them, I thought about my daughter’s childhood and how fleeting it already was. Days of the week socks would be fun right? Something she could store in her memory and think back on as a special part of being a girl.

So we bought the socks, and she gave me the “I can’t believe you said yes” look and thanked me.

The socks were cute, I have to admit. Monday’s was covered with little hearts and Tuesday’s was rainbow striped, but Wednesday’s was … LOST!

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Strewn over the top of my friend Melissa’s kitchen table are a dozen or so sympathy cards and notes.

These are just a sampling of all that’s she’s received from friends and even some strangers since her tragic event just over a month ago.

          
The words of comfort written in each one, the prayers and the scriptures have spoken volumes to Melissa during her low moments, and she finds herself bringing the cards out often.

There’s a card signed by a group of teachers from her local elementary school. Melissa points that one out to me and shows me their kind words.

One card comes from a niece who sends a hug her way.  And another, with pink and blue flowers, has a Bible verse found in Psalm 56:8 that she’s got memorized: “You have collected all my tears in your bottle.”

“I don’t recall ever hearing that verse before,” says Melissa, “but I know it now.” She’s cried a lot of tears over the past few weeks, and she’s figuring that God’s got a pretty big bottle with her name on it.

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