Recently I was taking a walk along the trail behind my apartment and came across this little girl. She had two friends with her. A boy and a girl — both much smaller than her.
The two smaller children were reaching and jumping, trying to grab the toy out of the outstretched hand of their much taller companion. There were shrieks and laughter and I noticed bubbles flying off in the breeze all around them. The sun caught the bubbles in its light and in the brief moment of their existence they turned all the colors of the rainbow!
I stood for a few minutes, watching the children and the bubbles from a distance.
Suddenly, I was transported back in time. I was that little girl — blowing bubbles and laughing. There was an overwhelming sense of being carefree and happy.
Of course, I did not have a bubble machine in those days. I, and other children my age, would put a wand in the jar of goop, gently pull it out and blow it into the air. Blow too hard and the bubbles would break, too slow and the bubbles wouldn’t form. Sometimes, if we were really careful, we could make different shapes and sizes. Oh, the bubbles it produced were beautiful!
Having spent enough time in that moment of sheer delight, I turned and walked away. How wonderful to have the joy of little children, that sense of wonder, being overjoyed in the beauty of a bubble as it floats away. The memory of those times as a child where I would be blowing bubbles made me happy!
It was comforting to know that despite all the ugliness in the world and the worrisome side effects of modern technology, some sweet things never change. A reminder too, that sometimes the simplest joys are the most profound and enduring.