Through Their Eyes*
I’m home again after a whirlwind trip to visit my family. There is never enough time to squeeze in all the visits I’d like, but I always leave feeling so grateful that I’ve been able to go at all. I love my family–both the originals and the new additions. ;)
(Even without beards.)
My family lives a little bit north of here, and when we woke up this morning, my mom called S & H over to the window as she threw open the curtains. It had started to snow overnight, and there was a layer of thick white snow blanketing everything, and these big fluffy flakes falling from the sky. I have to be honest, I don’t love snow. I think it can be pretty, and I like the look of it through the month of December, but in general I could live happily without it.
My children, on the other hand, could not.
As I sat on the couch and saw the snow, my first thought was: “Ugh. This will make for wet pants and a messy drive home.”
S & H reminded me that perspective is everything, and that magic can be there when we choose to look for it. While I saw an annoyance, they saw snowmen, snowballs, “poof-frints”, snow angels, twirling in the snowflakes and the promise that Christmas is coming. Their eyes were as wide as saucers and smiles exploded on their faces. The excitement over just watching the snow fall through the window radiated off their tiny bodies and I couldn’t help but smile. A wave of memories from my own childhood came rushing back–snow forts, quincy huts, saucer sleds, crazy carpets, king of the hill, and hot chocolate and “tweeties” waiting for us when we came inside. We used to play outside even after dark, with just the back light and the street lights illuminating the snowy yard, and it made everything look magical. It made me wonder: when exactly did I lose that magic? When did snow stop being exciting and shift to simply meaning wet pants and mittens = more laundry?
So, today I chose to be exited about snow. I chose not to be annoyed at the fact that my snow tires aren’t on yet and we haven’t put the snow brushes in the van which meant that I had to use my scarf to try and clear my windshield. I chose to be excited that my kids were excited about their wet mittens and pants because they had made snowballs with Auntie K. I chose to see snow through their eyes and I saw something completely different.
It’s amazing what a small shift in perspective can do. :)