We were at the baseball diamond, watching our grandson Andrew play.
Makayla, our very tall 8-year-old granddaughter, was there with her ballpark friend, Vanessa — a very short 7-year-old with the bluest eyes and a constant grin. She’s one of those kids who just stands nearby, wringing her hands and smiling, waiting to be noticed. Which takes a minute, since Makayla doesn’t look down all that often.
Eventually they tear off together, leaving me in their dust.
I’m just background noise. Which is fine. Mostly.
Until Makayla trots back five minutes later and says, “Can you come to the playground?”
“Oh, now you want to play with me?” I tease.
“No,” she says, “Vanessa’s mom won’t let her go unless there’s an adult.”
Kids can just cut you to the quick, can’t they?
“So you actually need me? Hmmm…what to do!”
Of course she knows me quite well by now so she knows I’m going to say yes. I just want her to sweat a little.
But she’s not playing my game. Instead she grabs my hand and starts running.
“Where are we going?”
“To show Vanessa’s mom you’re the adult going with us.”
And where’s Vanessa in all this? Just standing near her mom wringing her hands and smiling. Always smiling.
It’s like she knows Makayla will make it all happen. So she just stands nearby, quietly watching all the goings on — trusting that somehow, some way, everything will work out just fine.
And it does.
Off we go to the playground. I found a patch of grass so we could play a bunch of different games like red light, green light and tag.
Now here’s where the tiny joy comes in - while we’re all running - she looks up at me with those piercing blue eyes, giggling and smiling, and says with such enthusiasm, “This is so much fun!”
Oh.my.goodness - sweetness abounds!!
She was so full of joy and expressed herself so unabashedly that you couldn’t help but be taken aback.
She made my day. Completely and utterly.
She thought I was making her day — but really, it was the other way around.
Tiny joy! Big heart.
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