My Little Buddha
I never imagined all the amazing things I’d learn from my daughter.
My daughter Maggie turned four years old in July. I started “Mr. Mom” soon after she was born. It’s been an incredible journey watching her grow and change and turn into this little person with her own sense of style and individual quirks. I still remember when Maggie was in my wife’s stomach and how I wondered what she was going to look like, act like, be like, etc. Fast forward four years and here we are. Maggie is beautiful, smart, kind, loving and funny.
She’s also wise.
When Maggie was first born, I thought about all of the amazing things I’d be able to teacher. I never imagined though, all the amazing things she’d be teaching me.
One evening, at the start of the summer, I pulled into the driveway just before dusk. The sun had already dipped behind the woods in our backyard, its fiery pink head peeking out slightly. I pulled Maggie out of the back seat. Her ears perked up.
“Mama, shhhhh,” she told me when I began to talk. “Listen.”
I listened. The trees around us were alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and chirping birds. It was a peaceful night song that only nature could provide. Sadly, in my day-to-day craziness, I hardly ever notice it anymore.
We stood in the driveway for a few minutes, listening.
One morning not too long ago, as we were rushing out the door, Maggie stopped in her tracks. There were tiny rainbows reflected on the wall of the garage from the beveled glass in the garage door that leads to our backyard. She started to count each and every one.
“18,” she said when she was finished. “There are 18 rainbows.”
It was the first time I had ever seen anyone stop to count rainbows. Now, if the sun is shining down brightly in the morning as we leave the house, we count the rainbows together.
The other day, Maggie and I went for a hike. As we wandered along the narrow path, there was a clearing up ahead of us with a view of the creek. Maggie darted over to it and stepped right up to the edge.
“Look, Mama!” she pointed. “Isn’t the water beautiful!”
I peered over her shoulder and replied, “Beautiful? It’s all murky and brown.”
Maggie looked up at me. “Mama,” she said rather seriously. “Brown can be beautiful, too.”
I looked back at the water. She was right.