the eyes of a child

Last weekend as our family was delivering Angel Tree gifts in Durham, we pulled up to our final location- a rundown apartment complex in a not-so-great part of town. I took a deep breath, unbuckled the kids, grabbed the gifts and proceeded on toward their door. When we were finally ushered inside, I took a look around, surveying all that was different about this family’s home and way of life.

The visit was short and sweet. As we stepped back into our car, I looked forward to debriefing a bit with Carson. Because- my goodness- that little boy has so much going on in that head of his that I wanted to allow him a chance to express himself. I asked, “so Carson, what did you think about that visit? What did you think about their home?”

I expected him to say something like, “It was small and dark and smelled like smoke.”

But no. His response? “It was good. Their house was so big, and their Christmas tree was so beautiful, mama.”

In a moment of role reversal in which my three year old became teacher and I pupil, I was humbled. And I remembered to look for the good in life and be grateful for the everyday blessings. To notice the little white Christmas trees hiding in a dingy apartment. To be so awed at the vastness of an apartment building as a whole that you don’t notice the square footage of the apartment itself to be lacking.

As we find ourselves in a season that is widely known for encouraging the gimmes, wannas, and have/have nots, I’m praying that Carson maintains this mindset… and that his hard-headed mama would be able to adopt it as well.