Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Through the Eyes of a Baby


 
A most amazing thing is happening to me as I keep company with a baby.
 
I have begun to see, to think, and to live with baby eyes.
 
Baby eyes are full of possibility and wonder.
 
Baby eyes are clear.
 
Baby eyes are pensive and sensitive.
 
Baby eyes are gleeful.

There is no getting off the hook in a baby's eyes.

This morning, baby granddaughter and I went Christmas shopping, our first such excursion together.  I admit to a bit of trepidation, worried about possibly everything under the sun. Do I need parental permission to take such a trip?  So I asked permission of both parents before embarking on the journey, a trip of no more than 40 minutes each way.  Did I remember everything that goes in the diaper bag?  What if I have a wreck?  What if she cries the whole time we are gone?  What if, what if, what if . . . . . . .

Yet soon after we began our journey, my own set of baby eyes took over.
 
With baby eyes, I cried as I watched a mother gently touch and speak to her special needs child before she helped him to board the school bus in his wheelchair this morning. 
 
With baby eyes, I thrilled to watch a few random snowflakes dot the windshield. 
 
With baby eyes, I wouldn't dream of exceeding the speed limit.

With baby eyes, I encountered dozens of people with their own sets of baby eyes looking right back at me and baby granddaughter.  They offered greeting, opened doors, spoke kindly, and offered to help baby granddaughter and me at every turn.

With baby eyes, during the drive, as baby granddaughter napped in the car seat, I grew ever more grateful for the blessings in my life I, all too often, take for granted.

With baby eyes, I tried to recount the beauty of the day to baby granddaughter's mom, The One, when she came to take her home.  As tears welled up in my eyes, I can only wonder what The One thought.  If she brings baby granddaughter back in the morning, I will know all is well.

When I took on the responsibility of watching baby granddaughter, I honestly didn't know what to expect.  I plunged in.  Do now, think later.

I expected to be doing the giving, the changing (of diapers, that is), and to help with the upbringing of baby granddaughter.

But, interestingly, everything seems to working backwards.  It is I who am taking from the experience.  It is I who am changing.  It is I who is receiving the upbringing.  It is I, beginning to live life . . . through a baby's eyes.







 
 
 
 
 
 


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