what is pure surprises with its beauty

Theme:

There is so little that is pure in life. What is pure is so rare.
Scene:

I saw two sisters playing a card game together. The older one is being so kind, to entertain her younger sister at Grandma’s cabin in the mountains. The power was off temporarily and the only sound was their voices as they played. The purity of such an interaction is rare. Perhaps as fleeting as the clean air and blue sky here, high above the cities below that contain most of what we have come to accept as real life.

What I saw at this moment was the purity of sibling love, enjoying the quiet of a cool afternoon in the mountains, away from the television, the rush of the busy lives at home and the pressure of other obligations. This was just time for two. One to give, the other to receive the gift of time, before colleges and marriage draw them into lives of their own and families of their own.

These two girls will grow older and inevitably apart. The trips to the mountains together will be fewer and not as care- free. Families change as naturally as the seasons. As they get older and busier, school will demand more time, perhaps boyfriends or athletic pursuits will draw each one to spend more time with others.

Love like this does not die, nor fade, nor get erased. It becomes the backdrop to another layer of life and offers itself as a foundation for loves yet to be discovered. When other ‘important’ things begin to demand time and attention I trust that the deep sense of belonging fostered during a simple child’s game of cards will bring such strength and solace to reinforce the bond of family, sisters, friends.

As I am working nearby, straining with a simple task that has become difficult, the card game conversation has become the cabins soundtrack since the radio has gone silent with the flip of a circuit breaker. They play beautifully, quickly, for the hundredth time, a game of ‘Go Fish’ and must not realize how precious is the closeness they will always share, or how it speaks through their laughter, the giggling of pure fun filling the old cabin with another layer of happy memories.

I perspire, and mutter at the wires in the wall. The outlet is made new again, and the circuit breaker reset so that the Ipod can bring forth its’ music again.

I thank God for the examples of purity that exist in this world that I am passing through.