I hope it’s normal that, every time I happen to come across this poem, I just sit for a minute and cry. These simple words are so touching. I also remember my own Grandma, who was such a quiet and soothing presence, and who was always ready to play board games and tell stories about her childhood, early life, and numerous relatives whom I had never met.
Grandma is wise. She knows there is really nothing bigger, better and more beautiful than the fluffy clouds in the sky, the flower growing at the roadside, the butterfly fluttering around a rosebush. She has done it all. She has seen it all. She knows there is nothing more important than telling a story, taking a walk, baking cookies on a cold winter afternoon.
We don’t have to live to Grandma’s age to appreciate the little things that really matter. Though our lives are busy, may we not let this prevent us from slowing down and walking with “short steps” alongside the child in our life, or the little child hidden within us.
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P.S: my latest novel, Wild Children, is currently at a 0.99$ discount on Kindle (until next Thursday), so if any of you are looking for a new dystopian/light SciFi read, you might want to check it out!
Domestic Felicity 