Monday, 14 March 2011


The older I get the more I realise that it's the small things in life that make me happy.

You can rely on the small things. They carry with them their own humility. They do not seek to wreak seismic changes in your life, like a love affair, or a new career. They warm the heart and don't out stay their welcome.

I go to a local coffee shop most mornings after my stint as a school escort is over and relax over a cappuccino and the daily paper.

Every now and then a mother and her daughter, who is probably about two, come in. The child is as fair as the mother is dark but they both exude a quiet grace. They seem to come from another, gentler age.

They usually sit in a table at the window next to mine. I turn around to wave and, because she knows me now, the little girl waves back at me with the tiny, still forming hands that will one day stroke a child's cheek or hold a lover's hand.

Then they look out through the window at the passing world and something catches the child's eye and her mother leans in to explain another little part of the world's mystery.

It's usually then that it happens. I have this overwhelming need for time to stand still. I am grateful to be distracted from the horrors in the "Daily News" and want this reminder, that life was once as simple and innocent for all of us as it is for Amy now, to last for as long as possible.

Once we all gazed out through the window at the world, dazzled by it, but held securely in loving arms and totally unaware of our mother's fears for us once we passed beyond the glass ourselves.

I say a brief, silent prayer that all will be well for this mother and daughter when that moment comes. Then I place the moment in that crowded, untidy cupboard of beautiful moments that we all carry around with us and lastly I do it the courtesy of letting it pass in peace!


  1. Just before last Christmas, I saw something that left a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

    My route to my office takes me past a set of traffic lights that have a "Lollipot Man" to guide the nearby primary school children across the road.

    On the day that this school broke up for Christmas, I saw the Lollipot Man going back to his car, weighed down with the presents that he had been given by the pupils.

    Most mornings, I see him at work and I think back to that day in December.

    And it still makes me smile.

  2. Thank you for your visit to my blog. I felt it incumbent upon me to return the favour.
    Yours is one I am certain will become a fast favourite and I must thank you wholeheartedly for spelling the word "wreak" correctly!


  3. Just beautiful and so sincere. I loved reading this.
    And thanks for visiting my blog too . . . I'll be back!

  4. Thanks for ALL your lovely comments. It's always nice to know SOMEONE is actually reading!

  5. This was a really touching post and I enjoyed reading it.

    Nuts in May

  6. I loved this post, made me eys mist over but in a good way

  7. i still remember some moments like this. from my own childhood, snuggled up next to my mom in her big leather chair, not a care in the world.

    more recently, when my own spawn were small - quiet, calm moments. we were just there. together.

    i remember thinking "remember how this feels, remember, remember, remember"... and i do.

    very sweet post.