When I was little, my house had a huge window in the living room. It was on the second floor so I could see out in the neighborhood quite a ways and had a perfect view of the sky.
I remember countless nights sitting by that window, hoping and praying for things I still don’t fully understand.
During the holidays, we would set up our Christmas tree in front of that window. I would sit by it and just stare into the Christmas lights.
Even then, I had dreams of what Christmas would be like when I had a family of my own.
Every night leading up to Christmas morning, I would sneak out of my room, go sit by the tree, and look up at the sky and imagine Santa and his reindeer flying through the air, making their way to land gracefully on top of my roof.
Wonder.
I think it’s what makes childhood so magical.
The curiosity. The possibility. The joy.
As kids, we tend to worry much less, so naturally, we had time to wonder more.
I think there are lots of ways that we can be kids at heart, but I feel like at the core of it all is wonder and imagination.
I think that’s why I love being a teacher so much. I get to bridge the gap between kid and adult; between possibility and reality.
I’ve been thinking about that window a lot lately. That tree. That little girl. She didn’t know loss or suffering yet. She just knew wonder.
I think I still am that girl – sitting in front of that window, staring at the night sky in wonder, and dreaming of possibilities.
❤
The Yellow Door Life 
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