What I Learned From a One Year Old

Little Gaily Girl

What I Learned from a One-Year-Old

When she smiles, her mouth stretches from ear to ear, showing off a few new teeth, little white dots that grow more prominent every day. Dark curls ring her head like a Christmas wreath. When her tiny hand wraps around my finger, it feels more precious than any gold band I’ve ever seen. Her funny grunts and squeals make me ask her silly questions and tell her how silly she is. Before I know it, I’m making baby sounds myself.

When she looks at me, I wonder what she’s thinking. When she cuddles up in my lap, my troubles disappear.

I’d do anything for that kid.

When she cries, she can hit notes that would make the most accomplished opera singer blush with envy. Those notes send Pops scrambling to do whatever it takes to calm her upset little self. “Give me a second, sweetie. I’ll find your toy, or your bottle, or a million dollars if that’s what you want.”

But it’s those huge brown eyes that get me. When crocodile tears start to form, I melt like butter in a hot pan.

Most of the time, though, those eyes are filled with something else, something that’s easy to lose in adulthood.

Wonder.

Queen of the House

I recently had the privilege of watching my granddaughter for several days over two weeks while Mommie worked in Nashville. Let me make one thing clear: I had plenty of help from people who actually know how to tend to a baby. But I did prepare and serve bottles, change a few diapers (even the smelly kind), and chase her around the house as she relentlessly explored her new domain.

I say her domain because she was the queen and star of the show. She owned the place. I was simply the help.

To baby Gail, everything is a wonder. Everything is new and delightful. Everything is a mystery. Everything calls for further exploration.

She looked at the kitchen cabinet doors and wondered what was behind them. She stood at the gated doorway and wondered what lay on the other side. She climbed onto the fireplace hearth and wondered why the screen made such a funny sound when she ran her fingers over it. She wondered why the remote control had so many cool buttons. She escaped once and wondered what was at the top of the stairs. She wondered what kinds of books Pops kept in the end tables. She gazed in wonder at the birds and squirrels putting on a show outside the windows. She wondered what was out on the deck. She wondered why Pops always sat in that same old rocking chair. She wondered why there was fuzz on Pops’s upper lip and chin. She wondered why the thing on the ceiling with the big blades went round and round all by itself. She wondered what was behind those little white covers on the outlets.

To little Gail, almost everything is wonder-ful: something to explore, discover, and appreciate.

What We Lose

As adults, to our loss, we often lose our sense of wonder. Everything becomes old hat. After all, we know so much.

Or do we?

I don’t know why some mums are purple and others are yellow. I don’t know how the picture on my television or phone gets there. I don’t know how invisible waves race through the air and make my phone play classic rock. I can’t explain why the leaves on my maple trees turn from deep green to glorious gold. I don’t really know what makes me hungry, or why the aroma of popping popcorn makes my mouth water. I don’t know how Bluetooth connects my phone to my car radio and plays whatever I’m listening to. I don’t know how the dragon’s breath planted around my lamppost produces such pointy, fiery flowers. I don’t understand how certain aromas make me think of my mother. I don’t know what makes lightning split the sky some times and not others. And I don’t know why my heart beats one day and will finally stop the next.

But I’ve seen thousands of flowers, looked behind dozens of kitchen cabinet doors, watched thousands of hours of television, and seen the leaves change color more times than I can remember. I’ve weathered countless thunderstorms and watched cuts on my hands heal again and again. I’ve seen it all, so I just don’t wonder about it anymore.

But perhaps I haven’t seen it all.

What If?

What would it be like if I still had Gail’s sense of wonder?

Perhaps I would find more joy in trying new things.

Perhaps I would learn something new every day.

Perhaps I wouldn’t get stuck in so many ruts.

Perhaps I would experience more amazement.

Perhaps I wouldn’t give up so easily.

Perhaps I would see God in more places.

Perhaps I would appreciate life a little more.

Maybe one-year-olds are smarter than we think.

Jesus told us that we must become like little children to grasp the essence of God’s Kingdom. I wonder if part of what He meant is that we need to keep wondering like a child. It’s hard to take hold of something so mysterious and powerful without a strong sense of wonder.

I think little Gaily Girl is on to something.

I wonder.

Live Inspired!

Don Mark