THE PLEASURE OF SMALL THINGS

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!