I love to see the innocence of a child. Their unquestioning wonder is humbling to watch. They have faith that all will be well. A young child does not worry about global warming or drought conditions on a continent half a world away. They are concerned about a drink of juice and taking a ride on the ‘alligator’. It is kind of neat to think of an elevator as a carnivorous reptile. We enter into its jaws (have you ever had the doors close on you?), at the end of our ride we are spewed forth like discarded refuse to continue on our way. What a wonderful way to look at a mundane device that we all take for granted.
It would be so nice if we could maintain a little of that innocence, that wild eyed wonder at all things mundane. Instead, as we grow older, we become jaded, cynical, and suspicious. We question before we will believe and even then we are not sure. Who was it that said ‘blessed are they who believe . . .”? Yes they are truly blessed. I believe, I want to believe, but I am tainted by maturity and by experience. I have been lied to, I have been betrayed. I have also known honesty, integrity and love. I concentrate on the later as the former is distasteful to me. Beauty does exist around us but we must sometimes search for it. Beauty is not just physical, but also emotional or spiritual. What could be more attractive than a man (or woman) that is honourable and has the conviction to stand up for what he believes in. Beauty is not just skin deep, it permeates the soul.
If only we lived in a world where all children were allowed to be innocent…
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