As I opened my eyes and stretched to the morning light today, the first face I saw was my son's. As always, he stumbled from his bed into ours in the middle of the night and snuggled up to our faces. I knew I should have probably put him back into his bed, but I love having him near. I love feeling him tug at my shirt, raise his arms, and hug me as I lift him into the bed.
He is our greatest blessing and angel.
When I woke up, I couldn’t help studying his innocent face, wondering what he’ll look like as a man one day.
What kind of man will he be?
Thankfully, he’s a Savannah boy.
Blessed by the genteel grace of the South, kissed by the Georgia Sun, and cared for by his Southern Belle mother.
To be a Southern Gentleman is not God-given. It’s earned through lessons of “yes ma’am”, opening doors, and looking into people’s eyes with genuine earnest. It’s leading by faith. It's not fighting with words, but proving yourself through action.
I’m confident our son will live up to the strong Southern name God gave him.
And yes, in case you were wondering - he is, in fact, named after “that” Rhett.