Laughter in the Sun
My daughter Jessica turned 20 yesterday—no longer a teenager. She came home from college to celebrate her birthday.
The weekend passed by in a blur. We had soccer games, and she had friends to see, but in the midst of the hustle and bustle, she ran out.
Well, let me clarify that. In the bright afternoon sun, she dressed up in one of her purple little dresses, camera in hand and headed to the park. She had a grin on her face, her step lively and said she was off on an adventure.
An hour later she was back. She had flowers all up in her hair (does that sound like Butterfly Kisses?) and a little giggle. She’d been taking pictures among the flowers, and had gathered quite a bouquet. She dressed them elaborately for us on the table. She was tremendously pleased with herself, and her adventure in the sun.
She’s always been that way. My Jessica (her name means “wealthy in God”). Even when she was little, she was the one to go off on adventures to pick flowers, study the bugs, and watch the sunset. We always enjoyed the sunsets, the power of the storm, and the newness of fresh mown grass.
It’s those simple pleasures—living simply, giving generously that allow us to experience life. How often we need to see that even if our children must lead the way.