Through the eyes of a child . . .

Three days ago I let the kids pick out whatever they wanted from the cupboard to take on a picnic dinner, loaded them up in the double stroller, and pushed them two miles to the park. We ate fish crackers and princess cookies at a picnic table while the sun set over the hills, and the kids didn't even give much thought to the nearby playground. They were just simply content with their dinner pickings.

Two days ago, after dropping daddy off at the airport, we popped some popcorn, baked some cookies, and all sat around watching a kid's movie. Come bedtime a short time later, the kids couldn't have cared less that it was time to hit the rack. They were still happy about the pre-bed snacks.

One day ago, we got to drive daddy's car to the store instead of our usual mini-van. The kids were simply joyous at the prospect of being able to roll down the windows and feel the wind on their faces as we drove . . . not something they normally can do in the van. I snuck a few glances in the rear view mirror to find them holding hands as they smiled out their windows. They were just thrilled to be in a car where they could touch the wind and each other.

And then it hit me . . . at what point in our lives do we forget to find this kind of happiness in such small things? When do we quit finding joy in fish crackers, popcorn, and open windows?

Thank you Charley and Zander for reminding me of what I've been missing.