Monday, October 20, 2008

Star light Star bright

The other day I was out walking with my son. It was evening. He was barefoot and happy. I was pulling his wagon, watching him, and happy. It was one of those evenings when I breathe in and love, love, love, my life. Arizona can be beautiful. The full moon guided us. A breeze accompanied us. And there, straight up, buried among a million other stars, one shone brighter.

I started thinking Twinkle, Twinkle, but then realized that wasn't the angle I was going for and switched to Star Light, Star Bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.

Dead halt. Over the years I've had many deep-felt (I can't remember how to spell fervent, furvant), wishes (prayers, really). I petitioned God for my writing, for a husband, and then for three straight years, for my son.

Tonight: dead halt. Things like world peace went through my mind. My church and its struggles went through my mind. People losing their jobs went through my mind.

But as I looped along behind my son (if you've ever followed a three-year-old during a walk you know that looping is what you do) I had one of those AHA moments. During that walk, that moment in time, I needed for nothing. I had everything. I had my God that I could talk to during a walk (even as country music played in my head). I had a happy, healthy husband at home playing in his workshop (something about a battery gone dead). In front of me, I had a happy, healthy son (then, he stubbed his toe and the happy went away), and as for me, Wow. What more did I need?

In the scheme of things, taking a walk with a three-year-old is the perfect experience. Go grab one and do it. Then, head home and write five pages :)


Debby Giusti said...

Such a nice reminder that family is all that matters!!! My two grandbabies were with me yesterday and I felt the same way!

PamelaTracy said...

Every time I blink, he's onto another stage. Last week, I was thinking about how much room I have in the dishwasher now that I'm not doing bottles.

Ellen said...

I no longer know any three year olds so that is a pleasure I no longer have but I can remember when my great niece was three and watching her play in the front yard of her home. What an imagination she had.