Lesson on Small Things
Notes from the Prairie: I Wonder column #28
After worship, I join an acquaintance on a padded bench in the church foyer. Following a little chitchat, I wonder about her mobility issues, so I ask.
She smiles, pats the handle of her walker and responds, “I call her Trudy. Trudy and I are just fine. I would never choose to need her, but I do discover some benefits when moving slowly.”
She says her discovery began decades ago, when she rode her old high school bicycle instead of buying a newer, faster one. “On family bike trips, I always arrived last,” she explained.
Quick with quips, she told them, “You poor people are in such a hurry! On that ride, I saw many things you overlooked as you sped by. I took time for the beauty of small things!”
Now that she needs Trudy, her experience is similar. “I see the flowers, even the brave one pushing through a crack in the sidewalk — I have to keep an eye on sidewalks! I listen to the birds. And I have time to say hello to people.” She also has time to notice whether their faces are happy or sad.
“Sometimes people look sad and ask how I’m doing, while they pat my arm or back. Maybe they feel sorry because of my limitations.” She says again she’s fine.
“In a fast-paced world, it’s easy to become invisible, but it’s hard to be invisible when pushing Trudy! Noticing how kind people are when they open a door or help me to the car is a pleasant discovery.”
Back home, I delay starting Sunday dinner. Instead, I sit on the patio love seat cradling coffee. Sparrows and finches flutter at the feeder. Two of them fight for first rights to the food. A robin pecks below at fallen seeds. A hummingbird flits by, feeds and vanishes.
On my left, my neighbor’s multicolored tulips bloom. On my right, a wren tucks a twig into her nest, perches and sings in the sun. Beyond her, elephant ears and cannas sway in the breeze.
At my feet, a dandelion pushes through a patio crack.
Sitting here, I am grateful I wondered and then asked Lois a question.
At the moment, I don’t remember what I learned during morning worship. But my wondering led to a crucial lesson afterward: notice the small things.
Carol Van Klompenburg is a writer and speaker living in Pella, Iowa. Information about her can be found at www.carolvanklompenburg.com. Her email address is carolvk13@gmail.com
She is beginning research for a second book about aging.
A beautiful commentary on aging and with a cane. I also love nature and the little 'spices' in nature's gardens. I use my cane to push the handicap button. Bless that cane, we need each other.
Carol, I love how you take the small happenings in life and weave them into a delightful little story. Thanks, Nancy