A snapshot

This weekend we went to my niece's 2nd year birthday party.  It was a pool party and most of my kids, and a lot of nieces and nephews, aged from about seven to early twenties, were in the water.  They were playing football and having a lot of fun.  I sat there and listened to the things they said to each other; and watched the way they treated one another.  It was sweet and happy.  Each one of them had a beauty, inside and out, and it was a joy to look at them, to watch them, to hear their laughter and their words.  The big ones included the little ones in their teams; they were careful not to hurt them in their play; they answered their questions, and gave them turns, and treated them like equal team members- and had so much fun doing it.  They really churned up the water.  My heart was filled with their happiness, and I laughed too.

It was getting  late, and  I noticed that the light had faded to dark, and the pool had begun to glow blue with its underwater lights.  It was about 8pm when they all climbed out.  We thanked our hosts, gave our hugs and farewells all around, and headed home.  It had rained sometime in the neighboring town- the street lights reflecting on the road, the sizzling sound of tires rolling along the wet asphalt.  The windows were down, and the night air velvet soft.  We passed a fruit stand, the only one still open, and I smiled at the string of Christmas lights strewn over the front of the booth- to light up the dark, and to let customers know that a late night snack of bananas was still available. Christmas in May.  A happy thought.