She stood before me in pink and white shoes, their velcro laces securely fastened, and black cotton leggings. Practical on one end, fairy princess on the other. Her elfin face perfectly framed by a pixie cut, a pink ribbon caught the light in her eyes. Running through the yard on a beautiful March afternoon, her only care was to how high the wind lifted her princess gown, tattered from wear, and slightly darker than the dogwood blossoms down the street.
Searching for a stick to make the perfect wand, she turned to me holding one about nine inches long. "This one is perfect. It's 14 tall," she declared.
I could only agree.
The four-year-old bent over and started measuring herself. "And I'm five tall."
"But the stick is 14 tall?" I repeated just to clarify how such a small stick could be taller than her.
"Yes." She picked up another stick, this one shaped like a wishbone and half as long as the first. "This one is four tall. How tall are you?"
"Oh, maybe 17 tall?" Seriously, how could I know?
She studied me carefully, innocently swishing her poofy skirt. "You are fifteen tall," she decided.
So, friends, I am "1" taller than a stick. :0)
* * *
The final day of my dark week I got a treat--working outside on a beautiful day. This little girl found me and came over to talk. "Are you Sleeping Beauty?" I asked, figuring I had a small chance of guessing the right princess, especially since I haven't seen a Disney movie in forever. She nodded seriously.
What struck me was her simple beauty, despite the wear in her dess (obviously well loved) and the smudge on her face. She didn't need to tell anyone who she was. She knew without being told. she was a princess.
After sprinkling me with little girl fairy-dust and giving me tiny flowers, she skipped off to eat some grapes, leaving me to work in the sun on the eve of Spring.
How wonderful it is to know exactly who you are. To have the unwavering confidence of a four-year-old princess.
What about us, Friends? Do we know who we are?
2 hours ago