All that day they walked about in the woods with him, singing, and laughing; for Quickbeam often laughed. He laughed if the sun came out from behind a cloud, he laughed if they came upon a stream or spring: then he stooped and splashed his feet and head with water; he laughed sometimes at some sound or whisper in the trees.
Quickbeam, one of the younger members of race of ancient trees, ranks high in my list of favorite minor characters. He possesses a certain unbridled joy that most children know well, but most adults have learned to squelch.
A story comes to mind, when I was wandering through a shopping district during Christmastime. Frost nipped the air, and two conscientious parents were unloading their three little children from a van. As the mother wrestled gloves onto the oldest, the middle child, about three or four, hopped up on a bench and peered in a store window, where a small crèche was displayed. His eyes grew wide, his lips quivered, and then in a frenzy of excitement he yelled, “Mommy, look! It’s baby Jesus! Mommy, it’s baby Jesus, Mommy, look!” His mother was too distracted with the scarves and hats to pay any attention beyond a mumbled, “Uh-huh.” She wasn’t a bad parent— in that moment her eyes just weren’t open to the wonder that the little boy was celebrating.
This passage is a good reminder to slow down, to take a breath, and to delight in the small mysteries of our world. Beauty is only appreciated by those who take the time to look.
~Lisa Shafter
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