A View From the Bottom

When I was a little girl it didn't take much to find the little miracles in life. I remember the day I read the newspaper for the first time and how excited I was, when I learned how to swim in the "deep end" from the lady that wore different colored sunscreen on her nose, and when I learned how to do a cartwheel for the first time with sudden grand hopes of becoming Nadia Comaneci. There is one vivid memory that I've often wondered why it really has much significant meaning to me. My dad pulled up into a tall building in Houston, TX. He had to go inside and take care of something I thought would be boring and all grown up so he let me stay in the car outside to wait for him. I remember while I was waiting I started to look around and then I looked up. I had contorted my head outside the passenger window to get a better look above. I became fascinated with how tall the building we were parked in front of was. I began to observe how the clouds barely touched the top of the building. There was something splendorous about it in my mind of a child. It reminds me that in those times when I'm so anxious to get to the top of the building to see the view from the top not to forget that there's just as much beauty from the perspective of just tilting my head. Finding the splendor in life doesn't have to be so complicated.