She stands close
beside her mother, ebony hair sweptback in a ponytail, wisps held in place by a
silver beaded headband.
Though silent in the room of worshippers lifting
voices, her incandescent smile is a well of praise far deeper than a song, that
few see as her chin dips earthward.
If it weren’t for
the child who toddled over, peach balloon in hand, I, too, might have missed it.
Eyes alight, baby
curls framing her lively grin, she approached with curiosity, certain that the
kind smile reflecting her own came from one whose heart was playful.
Drawing near, she
held out her balloon as if to say, “Wanna play?”, and without words, the mother
guided her daughter’s open hand to receive this friendly offering.
The music around
them continued as the new pair began a dance of sorts, passing the balloon back
and forth, as if each knew that beneath its latex walls lie hidden the simple secret of joy.
As two-year-olds
are wont to do, the little one came and went, at times circling back to her
mama or pausing mid-orbit to study the face of someone new.
Not knowing when
she’d come, the taller girl waited patiently for the return of this pint-sized
free electron, who was drawn
back time and again by the positive charge of her peaceful smile.
Watching them, my
heart learned more than I could ever put into words, enlightened by two young teachers whose vision
far surpasses what eye can or cannot see.
November 3, 2019
Rennes, France
Photos by Devon Divine and Gabrigel on Unsplash
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