Where does our wonder go as we age? Do we become so jaded by seeing the same things over and over that we lose any sense that they are special?
My daughter, bless her childlike heart, is thrilled by the smallest of things: a partially-deflated balloon, a bite of Mama’s cookie, raindrops. Yesterday Husband and I had to do a bunch of unexpected painting and taping, and in an effort to keep her out of our hair (and paint out of hers), we plunked her in front of Planet Earth. The exclamations of awe that poured out of her mouth at every item made me wish I had an old-fashioned tape recorder handy. “Ooooooooh! A BEAR!” “Wow! What’s that? It’s…WA-ter, and it’s dripping.” “Mama, yook! The birds, they flying roun’ and roun’, and then, the TREES!”
I just stared at her, a little tearful at her joy. God, grant us to have childlike wonder at Your creation each day. Let us not take each bendable finger, each fluttering leaf, each thunderhead, for granted.