For the golden wheat scent of warm milk, the fall-evoking freckles of cinnamon, and the thick cap of perfect foam sliding back to reveal comforting depths of pale milk... For the way it makes my child dance within me... For the way it brings back my first memory, of lying on my back in safety with a bottle of warm vanilla milk... For the joy of knowing the treasured cup traveled all the way home from England in my sister's luggage... For the leisure in which to drink it...
I am thankful.
