Saturday, June 30, 2012

life through the eyes of a (perpetual) child

this summer i am working at a house where four adults with profound mental/developmental disabilities live. there's a whole lot i could write about things i've been learning - things about patience, about love, about humanity, dignity, the value of human life... etc, etc. lots of "big picture" things, you know; its like working there is teaching me little by little how to be a better human.

but not everything i'm learning is a big picture thing. sometimes there are just these small things that i see:

like tonight, when we took GD out on the porch to watch the fireworks and he sat for half an hour with his mouth literally hanging open, his eyes wide, the very picture of child-like delight. his eyes kept tracking the bright trails of light across the dark sky and he kept smiling and smiling, his mouth open.

it's not a big thing. i almost didn't even notice; i almost thought that the best thing was above me, exploding in the sky. but for some reason i did a double take, and thought about what, exactly, it might mean to have the proverbial 'faith like a child.'

watching fireworks won't ever get old for GD. next year he will have the same expression when he watches fireworks. 10 years from now, it will be the same thing. i guess you could think of that and think of how sad it is that he will never progress to anything beyond that. but then again you could also look at the awe on his face and wish that you had never outgrown the ability to be amazed by something you've seen a hundred times before.

it's all in your perspective, right? thanks, GD, for reminding me.

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