Grand Inspirations

    Excitement bubbling from their six-year-old bodies, my twin grandsons can't be pried away from the window long enough to eat their breakfast before the school bus arrives. The first snow of the season flutters downward to melt on top of cold, wet grass.

    Somewhere through the years we adults have lost the miracle of watching life with children's eyes. Perhaps that's why we see bad instead of good; ugliness instead of beauty. Chosing to vegetate in front of the television watching negative news reporting, arguing and cursing in make-believe courtrooms, talk-shows and sitcoms, has caused our rose-colored lens to darken into what we adults call 'reality'.

    Carefully driving my Mustang through blowing snow, my fourteen-year-old grandson's remark about how cool the snow looks as we drive into it causes my rose-colored lens to clear and focus on what his eyes are seeing. Sure enough, what I see snatches my breath away. Millions of tiny crystal bullets with white, cottony tracers are aimed right at us. It seems sad that the tiny specks of beauty disappear so quickly as they softly pelt my heated windshield.

    Babysitting my eighteen-month-old grandson, I feel as if I'm in school as his eyes remind me of what's truly important in life. Trust and love fill children's eyes. Sitting at the top of the stairway, his eyes search for mine where he receives assurance that I won't let him fall. Then his love-filled smile reaches from his cheeks to his eyes.

    Nap time arrives as we sit in the rocker while I sing him to sleep. His eyes look into mine with heart-melting love. One little hand reaches out to gently grasp my hair as his inquisitive eyes study the long, grey strand. Next, he discovers a sparkling earring to inspect as he tries to ward off sleep.

    The amazing thing is, before and after each inspection, his eyes lift to mine as if to say, 'this is my mamaw'. When sleep can no longer be kept at bay, he closes those precious eyes and snuggles against my chest with his little fingers entwined in the security of mamaw's hair.

    My grandchildren have inspired me to re-learn how to clean off my rose-colored lens and experience the miracle of life with children's eyes. I don't have anything to lose except a smidgen of stress, a number of frowns, and fountains of frustration.

                                                                 Nellotie Porter Chastain