I told Ezra that spending time with him is like milk and honey. He expanded and wrote to me:



"Milk the gift for children, given to calves who do not know how to say "thank you".
Honey the gift earned by persistent searching, tiresome work. Bees collect their honey-nectars from thousands of flowers.
In love, both the milk and the honey sit alongside each other. Milk reminds us of the gifts of fate, those gifts we do not know who to thank for, the often overlooked blessings that pull us toward happiness. A constant honey, that sweet, nuanced reward that comes to those who collect packets of sweetness from near and far away."


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