The name Amelia comes to us from the Germanic word amal, which means ‘work.’
Hence the name Amelia means industrious.
Our darling Amelia’s work, in part, is to delight and educate her grandmother.
I don’t want to impute too much maturity to a person of two and a half years, but yesterday I saw Amelia take a moment to master herself. She had just received from her Grandpa a mild verbal limit on her desired course of action. Her grandpa–whom she adores, and it’s mutual. On hearing this directive, this thwarting of her plans and desires, her little face clouded. Just for a moment, she turned her clouded face to the wall. And here’s the thing: Grandpa on the opposite side of the room could not see this. It was not for him she did it, but seemingly for herself. Having managed her reaction, she chose her response: to re-engage the sunshine and go on with her morning.
This morning when I all immersed in a creative project felt outrage at the husbandly assumption that he having presented himself in the kitchen was to immediately receive some breakfast, my face clouded. But then I chose the Amelia-response.
I lift my eyes to heaven, from whence cometh my help…