I haven't consistently been writing down my "beautiful things" but I haven't forgotten about it. It has helped me a lot to focus on the small things so that I can look back and realize how full my life really is.
Saturday I took Elijah to the Galleria with me and he was admired by so many ladies (and men, but not quite as extravagantly). I could not help but smile as each of them cooed at him and were absolutely overjoyed when they were rewarded with a smile or a giggle. Their reactions to Elijah clarified a comment one of Bobby's co-workers made when they met Elijah as a newborn. She said to the other ladies in the office "He is like a breath of fresh air, isn't he?" And he is. I think that a baby is like a breath of fresh air. Healthy and refreshing for the heart, mind, body, and spirit. Like a beautiful, needed surprise. Babies are so pure and perfect in their newness and we don't yet know what God created them to be so they are a clean slate and a wonder.
This has caused me to surmise that once the masses fall out of love with babies, it will show a more callous heart toward God and purity and caring. I wonder? Maybe I am wrong.
At the Galleria there were plenty who pushed past me in their rush to find what they needed. Their lack of concern for others, even a woman with a baby, a stroller, a diaper bag, and purse struggling in a huge, crowded mall. It was disheartening. Then there were those who stopped to coo at Elijah or ask me how I was doing and it was encouraging. There were those who knocked into my stroller and never looked back and then there were those who helped me bring the stroller up and down stairs. There were people who stopped to open the door for me and my load and those who let it shut on me as I had two wheels out, one stuck in the door and a baby in my arms.
I am thankful for all the beautiful people who made my trip a little easier and although it was a struggle it was worth seeing the joy those 12 pounds and giggles could bring to others. Ladies stuck at work whose faces lit up when they saw him. Those in line, not so disgruntled because they can talk to my baby and get a smile. People who assisted me having a lightness in their step after they knew they had really helped someone else out.
The small things make life beautiful. Like my small, little brown-eyed boy. The ladies at the YMCA call him "Bright Eyes."
