Secret Meadows and Sweet Messages.

I was at school today, waiting for Mom to pick me up. I love my school. It's located in my favorite place in the whole world... downtown Littleton. I love downtown Littleton. I fell in love with it three years ago and I've never grown out of it. 

Of all the things I love about downtown Littleton, the thing I love the most are the secret, hidden places under the roads. Okay, so all over Littleton are these gullies and streams. Whenever the road crosses over a stream, a secret wonderland is formed. Paths and walkways run under the roads as well and wherever the two cross, you get these really cool tunnels. So, imagine you're walking along the road and you come to a bridge. Lean over the side of the hand railing and look down into a secret meadow below ground level, filled with golden sunlight.




As I waited for Mom, I wandered along the path until I came to a bridge looking down at one of these secret meadows. The meadow was a part of a longer gully through which water once ran, but now it was dry. I leaned over the edge, longing to be a part of that world. I didn't spend a lot of time deciding what I should do. I skipped down the path until I found an opening that led down to the gully.

I walked along the dry stream bed, headed for that meadow I had first spotted. The golden sunlight was playing games with itself on the other side of the dim tunnel that ran under the road. Leaves rustled under my feet as I climbed through the tunnel. It was dark and cool in there. On the other side, however, the sunlight warmed the winter afternoon, filling the meadow with laughter.

I stopped and gazed upward.

To think that I could find so much beauty... in the city. To think that hidden under the noise of traffic and crowded streets is this secret meadow. Beautiful things are always surrounding us, but so often we miss them. Maybe we don't know how to look for them, or maybe they hid themselves too cleverly for us to find them. Whatever the case may be, I found myself today frozen in time.

Slow down. It felt so good just to slow down. These moments only come once in our lives.

I turned from looking upward to picking through the trash littered all over the place.

I found this sweet message:

Mid-Writing 2A
11-9-11


The important person for my life.
This is my mother my mom has a black hair, blue eyes, and white skin.
She is 18 years old. She is helpful. She is funny, because she makes me happy
when I'm sad. She is smart, because she got good great at school. She is funy, because
she plays jokes. I have best mom in the-

In the world? I guess we'll never know... the sheet of paper was torn half way through the sentence.

Things like that make me cry.

This is beauty from pain. A child struggling with basic writing skills... a young mother keeping her family alive. Maybe they are alone in life. Maybe they are surrounded with love. Maybe they know Christ... maybe not. 

But, here you have it. This child is obviously overcome in this moment with love for their mother. It doesn't matter that they can't spell. It doesn't matter that they perform at such a low level. What matters is that this mother has given her child everything she can. She laughs with them, cries with them, encourages them, comforts them, and faces every trial with them like a valiant warrior.

That is real life.