Years before I became a mother, I heard an exchange that resonated with such deep truth to me that it became imprinted on my soul. The comment wasn’t exactly presented as a “piece of parenting advice”, but it has become the singular foundation on which I have based my entire parenting mindset.

At the risk of sounding like yet another middle-class, white, Oprah-loving female, it was a short clip (see here) in which Oprah Winfrey was interviewing Toni Morrison for her Master Class series. Toni’s simple question caused my heart to sing “Yes – that is it!”

Toni Morrison: “It is interesting to see, when a kid walks in the room, your child or anybody else’s child,

Does your face light up?

… That’s what they’re looking for. … You think your affection and your deep love is on display because you’re caring for them. It’s not. When they see you, they see the critical face. ‘What’s wrong now?’ … But then, if you let your face speak what’s in your heart. Because when they walked in the room, I was glad to see them. It’s just as small as that.”

Oprah Winfrey: “That is what I think is so profound because that is how you learn what your value is. Not by what the person is saying to you, but what you feel.”

Isn’t this what we all want? How we all want to be greeted by those who mean the most to us? It is in this simple act, repeated over again and again, that we can extend waves of deep acceptance into the ocean of love that we desire to share with our children.

Parenting can be profoundly joyful — and really, really hard. I do not subscribe to the perfectionist ideal of motherhood and feminism. Some days it is easier to accept how I have shown up for the children in my life — the patience may more naturally rise, the day seems to flow more magically. And other days, I lay my head to my pillow just grateful to have made it through. I think part of what allows me to fall asleep at night (besides the exhaustion) is that I have, in one respect, set my parenting bar very low — at a place where is is easily achievable even on the most difficult of days.

I want to make sure that my daughters see my face light up when they walk in the room each and every day. I want them to see that I am happy and filled with joy that I get to share my life and presence with them. If I can fulfill that simple goal each day, I am hopeful that they will forgive the moments in which I do not respond or act in my most loving manner. I hope that I will have filled their jars with enough acceptance and love that they don’t question when moments get tough that they are worthy of love and belonging.

I want my girls to know that I feel profoundly blessed to be their mother. Seeing the joy on my face each day when they walk into the room is a daily reminder to them of their inherent value and my gratitude.