How Do You See It?

I've been catching up today on blogs reading my followers and yours.  Blogger is going crazy again and it wouldn't let me comment on some while it did on others. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I have no idea! 

I came across a sweet little blog and if you read it, please let me know who to credit. Obviously the blogger is a teacher and she tells the story of a little boy who liked worms and how everyday he searched for worms on the playground. There was the sweetest little picture of a little, dirty hand full of worms. The photo is what captured my attention. The quote is what kept me there,  "It's not always what we have, but how we see what we have that makes the greatest impact."

It may have looked like worms, but to this little boy it was a fist full of adventure. 

I am still considering the quote. We often compare ourselves to ourselves and hope next time to be better. As aging women, we compare our bodies and skin to that of a younger woman we once knew. A young mother compares herself to a pre-baby version of herself. Then we look at our homes, cars, relationships and yet again, we long for something else. Facebook paints a pretty picture.   A vicious cycle repeats itself in every phase of our lives when we calculate and compare. 

I tell the story of the night before Christmas Eve when I lost my car at Opry Mills. Ahh, my perfect family with babies in tow. Smiles for the camera...click...Let's get another one...click...where are the girls???...click...you said you were watching them...click.click.click. And all the precious pictures on Facebook didn't tell the real story. I'll share the whole truth another time. To say it didn't end well, is an understatement.  To be honest, it was a night from hell. 

I wanted to have my perfect family together, all doing the same thing, walking and laughing and enjoying, "in the air there's a feeling of Christmas. Children laughing (crying), people passing (shoving), meeting smile after smile (gritted teeth and a scowl)"...I'm sure there's a song out there like this. 

I think you get it. 

Looking back at what was a night from the pits turned out to be an object lesson to little eyes and ears. An opportunity to say, "You know how you and your brother don't always say kind words to each other? We'll, sometimes Grandy and BonBon don't either. I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

A realization that the small things are really big things and the big things are really small things. A ride around the neighborhood to see the lights and a visit to McDonald's would have been a big adventure for the little ones. The result would have been happier moms and dads and grandparents. 

I didn't see then what I see now. I wanted a big night at the circus and they would have been happy with the cotton candy. 

Today, I received several sweet comments on my tree on Facebook. It's simple and it's me. It's not magazine or Blog-award worthy but it makes me smile. While in the past I have tried to keep up with everyone else who has a tree in every room with a theme for each one, in this moment I see what I have. 

We no longer own a home, but we rent a nice place in a quiet neighborhood and we have the best landlords. While Mr. H is quiet and phlegmatic and non-confrontational (which sometimes drives me crazy), he is the most gentle, caring, consistent person I've ever known. While I miss my babies terribly, I rest in the calmness and assurance that we are exactly where we are supposed to be. 

Yes, I'm still searching for knobs to fit my mama's buffet to replace the ones we lost 10 months ago in the move, but I don't see an unfinished piece of furniture. I see Sunday dinner with pot roast, real creamed potatoes and gravy, brown and serve rolls, butter beans or white acre peas, corn and tomatoes and Sunday night burgers with family, Sunday School socials, and a house full of children or teenagers. 

How do you see what you have? Please share. 

Bonnie