This morning while looking out at what little snow fall we DID have here in Alabama my eight year old takes a look at the awning there above the door. "Look at the icicles mom!" I looked...I didn't see icicles I saw dripping water. "That's not icicles, that's just water dripping from the roof." She said again, "No, mom. Look at the icicles. THERE!" I looked. I didn't see them. It's just water. We turned to get our chores done before starting school.
It wasn't until this afternoon when we were looking out the window at the remaining snow that held on in the coolness of the shadows that I looked up and guess what I saw....ICICLES! There they were...only a few inches long but they had grown throughout the day.
And then it dawned on me. I got down on my knees and looked from the level of my child. All along the edge of the roof were tiny icicles gleaming in the sunlight...growing steadily through the coldness of the day. They had been there all along. I had been wrong. Those icicles WERE there. All I had to do was look through the eyes of my child. We spent the next few minutes taking turns looking at those icicles from each others points of view. Me on my knees and her in my arms held up high.
The point is:
Sometimes, we don't see what other people see, no matter how hard they try to tell us. But if we look through their eyes on occasion. We just don't know what we might behold. We just might find a thing of beauty.
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