Why Don’t We Remember the Beauty?

Detroit River, Night
Photo Credit: Flikr, Creative Commons, Jodelli

“Mom, mom, mom!  Look, look, look!” my youngest, pounding on my shoulder pleaded.

“Uh, huh” I muttered, not looking up from my book. The past 4 hours I spent stuck in one seated position, the plane descended slowly, and I had to pee.

“MOOOOM! Look!”

I glanced over her shoulder out the window. There were lots of lights. Because that’s what you see when it’s 9:00 at night in Michigan. 

She sighed. “Isn’t it just the most beautiful thing you ever saw?”

Ummmm, no, I answered in my head. It’s Detroit.

But she was enamored. “See how when you look down it’s all lit up, but when you look just above you see lines of green and orange and dark blue in the sky.”

“How come,” she pondered thoughtfully, “when we are on a long plane ride like this we always remember the bad stuff, like being bored and not having enough room. We never remember the beauty that we see. How come it’s like that with everything, Mom? We remember the bad and the uncomfortable, but not the beauty.”

I don’t know, my 11-year-old wise one, I don’t know.

Comments

  1. Laura Olson Johnson says

    Ahhh, the innocence of youth. Oh wait, my youth would be complaining about being bored and not having enough room.

  2. Cheryl L. White says

    I don't want to grow up! . . .whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. Thanks Annika!

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