When the weather is good, I take my granddaughter Maggie for a walk. In the spring, summer, and fall, that’s almost every day. She has minimal use of her arms and hands and no use of her legs, so getting out for a walk is a real treat.
Maggie happened upon something that makes her very happy on these walks. She waves to every car that passes us. She holds her hand as high as she can and moves it as much as she can. From behind the wheelchair, I wave too so that people don’t miss her waving to them. It’s like being in a parade!
When people pass by, one of three things happens:
- They see her, give a big wave, and then their face lights up with a smile.
- They see her, give a half-hearted wave, but don’t smile.
- They are looking in a different direction, or they are distracted and don’t see her at all.
For those who see her, who wave and smile, Maggie is like a small gift. It doesn’t matter what else might
be happening in their day. It might have been a bad day. Maybe they had a fight with their spouse or are short on money or have some other significant problem. But for that moment, as they pass Maggie, they feel a spark of joy. Those who wave but don’t smile have the opportunity to have their spirits lifted but choose to stay down. They decide not to have their spirits lifted for even a moment from whatever is troubling them. And what about those who don’t see her or are distracted. Because they weren’t looking, they missed the opportunity to be lifted. They lost out on the gift.
This little example of what Maggie and I experience every day is what happens in life. Some, no matter their problems, let light in when it comes their way. They choose to be lifted even for a few seconds. Some choose to stay down, to struggle and feel bad. Some are not even aware that there is light and happiness to be had because they aren’t looking.
Maggie is an excellent example of the first type of person. She can’t walk, talk, feed herself, or even take herself to the bathroom. Maggie has to wait for everything, and we aren’t always as fast as I am sure Maggie would like us to be. She is often in pain. Her legs ache, and she can’t always find a way to tell someone. Of all the people I know, she has every reason to be unhappy. But Maggie is like those first people in our parade. She finds small things that bring her joy. She embraces them and chooses to be happy.
Jokes, for example. Maggie loves jokes. She laughs and smiles and throws her arms in delight. She chooses to see the small moments of joy that happen in some very long days. Being pushed in her wheelchair brings a smile to her face. Waving at perfect strangers, even if they don’t wave back, makes her happy. Maggie fills her days with small moments of joy, making her days pleasant, despite her struggles.
Life has its ups and downs. Sometimes there are so many downs they threaten to overwhelm us, but happiness is a choice. Look for the moments of joy and let them in. They won’t solve your problems, but you will feel better, you will see more solutions, and life will feel lighter.

For many of you, developing a family mission statement may have been on your “to-do” list for a long time, but you have never gotten around to it. Or, maybe the idea is new and a bit daunting.
Recently I read
grow, through every stage of our changing body… but then we reach early adulthood, and what happens? Quite suddenly, we halt the adoration of the continued growth and change and strive— for the rest of our lives— to achieve the young, thin, pre-maternal body.
I was sitting in church with my family. The meeting ended; I placed my hand on the back of the chair in front of me, ready to stand. I’m not sure why what happened next did, but it stopped me in mid-stand. I realized how beautiful my hand was. I was shocked by the sight and the feelings that came with it. I asked my granddaughter to take a photo. I wanted to remember the gift I had just received.


Sometimes, as a parent, we’re handed opportunities for self-evaluation on a silver platter. I was given such a dish the other day when I caught my two-year-old son marching around the living room chanting, “Stop that! Now I have to take that away. Stop that! Now I have to take that away.” Good grief! I’m happy to contrast that little ditty with something he was muttering in my ear a few nights ago as I was putting him to sleep. “Daddy loves you; daddy loves you; daddy loves you.”
A friend has been talking with me about her efforts to organize her family and teach her sons. We’ve had conversations, each ending with something to ponder. The goal is to come up with an experiment.
Keep It Simple
reasoned that he could help the two boys, one 12 and one 6. The 12-year-old wouldn’t need much help. I would help the girls, one 10 and one 14, with special needs. The 10-year-old is creative and fairly independent. That should work out alright.
NOT! Don couldn’t manage two at a time and was totally involved with the six-year-old. That left me with three. As for the twelve-year-old, I discovered that when it comes to cooking, he needed a lot of help. And as far as the 10-year-old goes, she couldn’t read my cursive. Of course, her recipe card was in my cursive. Sigh. It was like trying to wrangle chickens. You’ve never done that. Well, trust me, it’s tiring!! And here is another thing. I am perfectly aware that expectations can do a good project in. I teach that. I am an expert.
cream the sugar and shortening, no problem. Then they will cook their cookies, we will eat some and each will clean up their spot on the table. WHAT WAS I THINKING!!!
I have to say, that
“A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with his hair fashionably combed and shaved perfectly, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready.
I have a friend who has a tiny poodle named Isadore. When I last visited her, she complained that he is spoiled rotten. He wants to be held all the time. She said Isadore drips water from his chin when he drinks and so the floor is always a mess. She sighed in exasperation.