When I was born my grandmother came to see the second grandchild born into her family offspring, at the hospital. I can remember her saying to me, when they put me in her arms I opened my eyes for the first time. I looked up at her, looking directly into her eyes, and she almost dropped me. They had to take me from her. What did she see? While growing up being the little girl I was to be, she used to look at me when she was talking to me, and at some point she’d say, “stop looking at me with them big ole eyes!” Why did my eyes bother her? You know what? I also remember, after becoming an adult, one of her long time neighbors told me, “you’ve got your grandmother’s eyes.” I believe though they may be shaped like hers, but the eyeball itself, I think not. They were like mirrors to me. When I’d look into the mirror, into my own eyes, I could see myself clearly. I always thought most people could do that. The reflection was me looking at me, looking at me, looking at me. Was that what scared her? Yes, they were big, and after I grew up they did better fit my face. Although to many people my eyes were still an unusual big.
My sister, a year older than me, also had big eyes, but grandmother loved hers, while mine spooked her for some reason. As a child I was a Chronic Asthmatic. My first attack happened while I was still an infant. I remember how my sister would climb up into bed, wanting to play with me and look at me trying to breathe with her huge eyes looking into mine, we’d lock eyes together for a moment, and she understood she had to wait until I got better to play with me, and climb back out of bed. I think its a very special thing to be able to remember such momentums like this. Not many people can recall their childhood experiences at such a young age. I however, can remember many, many things that happened.
One day at a job I had, the UPs guy, after being buzzed in, came towards me looking deep into my eyes then said, “I bet you see everything with those big ole eyes”. Funny huh? He was right, beyond the understanding of his own words. Sometimes I could see the tears that a face wasn’t crying. I could see anger behind a face, hiding. I could see excitement trying hard not to express itself, and other things I don’t care to mention, not because it’s bad, but just that it’s another story. Maybe I’m just weird that way. Maybe we all have our own weird. Oh, you know what? That UPs guy had real big eyes too.
How often do you look back at life’s worth’s? Maybe always trying to be prepared for what’s ahead, not too often, or not often enough. I believe moments in my life that conjure up such inner visions sometimes nourish my spirit for life. It allows me to value the gift of life, knowing those special moments actually happened, so I embrace them joyfully, and don’t mind sharing. Maybe it will induce a bit more of caring for what special moments that happened in someone else’s life, be them large or small. If we look deep enough inside our lives, we’ll see life has so many worth’s, we may even notice where God placed our treasures, though they may have seemed hidden from us. There may also be some disasters for too many which could really bury our abilities to see any treasures at all, I’ve got some of those too, but we don’t have to waste some perfectly good positive energy on that portion of life right now do we?
Peace & Grace People