During Advent and the Christmas season, I watched as Ramona, time and again, widened her eyes, glowed, and said things like, "Ooooh!" or, "That was such a fun show, Mommy!" or, "I love this! Can we do it again next year?"
"Why is she shushing us during Rudolph?" I wondered and then realized that she did not know how it turned out. Whoosh. How quickly an old mommy forgets.
And it was that way all season long -- wonder and enchantment over things that I think of as the same old stuff. Not that I don't love our same old stuff -- I really do -- but, it's still, well, you know. It's the same old stuff.
But not to a five-year-old who is just awakening in new and thrilling ways to the world around her.
It's intoxicating. To her. To me. To everyone. It's contagious.
It no longer feels like the same old stuff.
Also recently, whenever I read a post at Jennifer's Et tu? I am struck by a similar feeling. If you don't read Et tu? , then you must! Go there. Now.
Jennifer, like me, is a former atheist. Jennifer, like me, is now a Catholic. Jennifer chronicled her conversion, and is now chronicling her life as a new Catholic. It's all new to her, and it's all sublime. Sometimes when I read one of her posts, such as this one (written on Christmas Eve and full of all the anticipation of a bride on the night before her wedding) or this one (written after Christmas Eve and full of the reality of sleep deprivation and crabbiness being redeemed by the One True Thing), I just weep. I weep at her discoveries, her faith, her gratitude. I love that she is so real, so intelligent, and so willing to share what she has found and still struggles to find on this new path.
I remember when it was all new to me, too. And I'm thankful for fresh looks and fresh starts.
God, A Charlie Brown Christmas, the Eucharist, gingerbread houses, lights on a tree and the Light of the world ....
May I always have the grace to see it all as it were the first time, to see with new and wondering eyes.