The way dumplins fall into a boiling pot of chicken broth with a splash as they roll and twist, expanding into delicious sheets of fluffy goodness. The smell of a fresh Evergreen that fills the senses and wraps itself around the soul. The way that even in the warmth of the house, you can still feel the bitter cold that consumes the winter air outside. How a cool blanket devours your shivering body and warms your core. The sweet smell of cotton seed oil that sifts through the air, filling a hazy summer day. These are the things that fill me; these are the small things in which I believe.
They don’t much make sense, nor can anyone attempt to explain and understand these moments, but when one comes upon you, your heart soars if only for an instant. To me, they are the very things that make my day a little brighter; they complete my happiness. They are the small things in life.
On a hot day in the south, the way the bottom of a glass of sweet tea is warm and still, the cool rush of sugar chills your throat. Wrapped in a mess of an old quilt that generations have huddled in with its frayed edges floating in the wind, as you sit in the grass and stare up into the night sky. A letter that comes in the mail from a long lost friend and the joy that arrives with it. The way your heart leaps with a youthful delight as wet sand coats itself around the borders of your body with each smooth wave that comes crawling upon the shore.
There are several elements to these small things; there is surprise, joy, childlike excitement, and comfort. The surprise satisfies stillness; it relocates you. The joy launches its beauty into your own reality; it transforms your point of view. The childlike excitement sneaks toward you unexpectingly with its colorful face; it ignites your flame. The comfort entices you into a realm of tranquility; it induces your body into bliss.
They are “sweet spots.” Your senses grasp the concept as your mind yearns for comprehension. In my darkest moments, these small things link me back to the reality of God’s love.
Whether it be embracing my horse’s big neck and crying into his mane that saves me from my moments of desperation or dancing in the rain behind the house that lights my heart with happiness or eating cookie dough right from the bowl that makes me laugh like a little girl again or sitting in silence in the middle of a field of corn with only the sound of the husk’s sweet melody as they rub together in the wind to keep me company, saving me from life’s unruliness, they seem to come at the most ideal times, my tiny little miracles.
In the brightest pastures, or the darkest shadows, they are always there, those small things, waiting to be heard and felt and savored. Like any other beauty in nature, just as they come, they will surely go. They are a lesson in embracing what you’ve got, a lesson in gratitude, a lesson in being contented. They are the small things in which I believe.
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