They fall silently. Cascading down the side of her face. Blonde tendrils that frame her sweet kissable cheeks.
Blue gems sparkle as she follows the critters. Always looking for the next animal to befriend.
Always curious. Captivated by beauty. Swept away by the intricate details that her Creator used as He welded His brush and palette.
She is like me in so many ways. So many ways. Many ways that I have put on a shelf. But, that bookcase has been dusted off. Things are coming off the shelf.
Through the eyes of a child. Those blue gems that sparkle like tanzanite in the noonday sun. Curiosity that can never be quenched.
Open arms. Full-faced. Running.
She runs every where she goes. When I ask why, she says, “I’m not running, mom. I’m trying to get there faster.”
Yet, in her getting there faster, she has taught me to slow down. To take note of the Master’s hand. His artistic expression that is my children and the world around us.
From her 4 foot view of the world, everything is alive with wonder. Expectations abound. Nothing is not possible. Dreams are reality and life is good. Truly good.
This is the child that when presented with a school project about “Black History Month” was confused. She asked in her innocence why we have a black history month because “we are all the same mommy”. We have never taught her any different.
Oh, I know that Pollyanna is not the way to live, but it does make me wonder. What is the way to live? Maybe Pollyanna had it right after all. Finding the glad in the bad. Recognizing that it is all good. Even the bad. It is a matter of perspective that my 6-year-old has seemed to master.
Learning from her as she grows. I grow. She is one of the best teachers I have ever had.
Yes, I know that the bank of life will make deposits and withdrawals as she grows. Her innocence and purity will become things of a distant, memorable past. Even though this is inevitable, I pray that she still knows that with God all truly is good and that she can always find the glad in the bad.