her face

People are different - many different shapes, sizes, and personalitie. Just like the variety of spring flowers. Some people are loners, others like to surround themselves with others. Some people like to keep at it until they have the task complete, while others get bored doing just one thing and need variety. Some people love babies and children, others don't. People who know me, know that I don't interract with babies at all - and with young children only minimally. When they're at about age 7, I'm more comfortable with children. By the time they're pre-teens, I enjoy being around them. I love the energy teenagers give off. They're a blast to be around and to watch. Poor Uncle Ian, he's become the subject of a few posts lately. Well, this isn't really about him, but about one of his two lovely daughters. I don't get involved with any of the 'kid's programs' at church. I'd rather get to know them on an individual basis when they're older. I didn't give it much thought at how old Uncle Ian's daughters are now. Last I remembered they were 5 & 3 yrs old. But when I sat down on Sunday morning, we happened to sit next to them. Thatt's when I realized the oldest girl is that magic pre-teen age! I don't know when she grew up like that! I haven't really talked with her before, and I'm certain she wouldn't even know my name. There are several chairs between me and the girls. The girl gets up to bring the basket to me, and I looked into her face. Yup! She's almost a teenager. You can see it in her face and her complexion. She's a beautiful girl! She's thin, but taller than I would have envisioned for Chinese heritage. But when I looked into her face, my heart fell. All I could think about for the rest of the service, and throughout the day was ... "Her mother will never have the chance to look into this girl's face. Her mother will never know how beautiful her own daughter' is becoming. This beatiful girl will never be able to look into her mother's face and see where she gets her beautiful eyes? her nose? or her lips or her brow?." I felt as though I had stolen this glimpse from a woman in another land far far away. How could I see her daughter, when she could not? And she probably never will. It just wasn't right. I did not deserve to see this mother's wish, when I looked into this girl's face.

her pretty face