Post by Jessica R.
You’re walking along, in a hurry to get somewhere, pulling your young child by the hand. The fifteenth time she gets sidetracked and stops moving, you turn, exasperated, to beg her to come on already.
She ignores you, entranced by something on the sidewalk. You glance over to see what has caught her attention and notice a butterfly sitting on a leaf.
Whatever, it’s a butterfly. There a millions of butterflies and you’re in a hurry.
But then out of the corner of your eye you notice the glint in your daughter’s eye. Her entire attention is focused on the butterfly. This butterfly. The one in front of her. The one you dismissed as one of a million.
Forgetting your hurry, you squat down next to your child and look, really look at the butterfly. She points out the shimmer on the wings, you point out the tiny legs, and for a moment you are lost in the same magical wonder that children feel every day as they discover the world.
For them it’s a great pleasure, but for you? Just a tiny pleasure to remind you of the wonder that surrounds us.
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