My normal twenty minute walk took forty-five minutes yesterday. Gracie was visiting and wanted to join me. First we had to find just the right stick…not a walking stick. No this one was to fend off invisible enemies should they consider attacking her Auntie Joy.

We stopped to watch a beetle crossing our path, to count ants, to smell blossoms, and listen to a bird song or two she hadn’t heard before. She soaked in the sunshine and twirled in dappled rays. She stood facing the wind with her eyes closed enjoying its caress on her cheeks as it ruffled through her hair.

She told me that dandelions smell yellow and walking barefoot through the cottonwood seeds covering the grass was soft and fluffy.

Then she did it. She turned around and said, “Auntie, I feel beautiful.”

“Oh Gracie! You are!” Tears welled up. Life will intrude and like girls of all ages, Gracie won’t always feel beautiful. But for that moment – she shone with radiant beauty as she enjoyed being Grace in the midst of God’s creation.

While I wiped away a sneaky tear and prayed she’d always know I see her beauty, she smiled and twirled with her stick lifted up. A queen in a sundress her scepter held high.

Not all our walking moments were lovely though. I prayed she’d miss the dead bird some other animal had partially devoured. She did.

She didn’t miss the splotches on the sideway and she was pretty sure the birds could potty in the grass so we didn’t have to look at it!

Isn’t that just like life? Death and waste litter our earthly path with violence and filth. Sometimes if we try hard enough we don’t see them. Other times they stand in our way shaking their fists at our joy.

Well, they didn’t win when Gracie and I walked together. They were part of our reality and we experienced them but we didn’t hold on to them. Her disgust was real but she allowed the birds some grace when she commented, “But they sing pretty so I guess it’s okay.”

Tomorrow as I walk, I want to remember Grace’s voice singing, You Are My Sunshine as she danced in its light. I want to count some ants, hear the birds, smell yellow, and maybe just maybe when no one except God is looking, twirl in a sun beam.

I want to walk like Grace.