Staying Found

When our youngest daughter was 9 she succeeded in talking her father and me  into allowing her to get a dog. She saved her money to buy it and of course, as all good children do when they are begging for a pet, promised to feed it, brush it, clean up after it, and take if for a daily walk.  The dreamed of day finally arrived and  my two daughters and I  headed to the nearby pound to rescue a dog and bring home a pet.

We walked up and down the aisles looking at cute dogs,  big dogs, fuzzy dogs, and ugly dogs.  The girls paused at one kennel that held three small dogs.  Two dogs were standing at the fence wagging their tails  begging for attention. The third dog was in the corner, curled in a ball, shaking.  I looked at the shaking dog  and said, “We don’t want that one,” and walked on by.

But my daughters lingered.  The older one read the note pinned to the fence that gave some information about each dog. “Mostly American  Eskimo.  5 years old.  Owners moving and can’t take the dog.  Name:  Belle”.

“Hi Belle”, my  daughter said and instantly the little shaking dog jumped up and ran to the fence.  Someone knew her name!  She was no longer forgotten, cast aside, lost in this horrible dog prison, one step from death!  She’d been found!

And we had found the right dog.  Belle lived with us, staying found, for the rest of her nearly 18 years.

Small Happinesses

Summer on the patio

I read a very profound statement in the December 2010 issue of Real Simple Magazine. It said, “I hardly know what ‘be happy’ means.  I only know that happiness is small rather than big, and always closer than you think.”

What truth.  As I was writing our annual Christmas letter this past December I thought back over the year 2010. It was easy to remember some big happinesses.  Like our son and grandchildren visiting us from out-of-state;  our youngest daughter’s graduation from college; our older daughter and her husband buying their own home.

But mostly the year was made up of small happinesses.  Building a fire in our wood stove on dreary, overcast winter days.  Planting a garden in the spring and harvesting red, yellow, white, and purple carrots in the winter.  Sitting in our yard, wearing our pajamas at 3:00 in the morning, watching a lightning show in the northwestern sky and counting til we heard the thunder. Collecting white, brown, and green eggs from our very own hens. Walking our dog down our pathetic, potholed but very quiet country road. Finding a black and white photo of me and my friends, years ago when we were kids, enjoying a sunny summer day on the patio.

How much energy we expend  anticipating the big happinesses, hoping, planning, praying.  They consume our energy, time, and money.  After the events we relish the retelling of them to our friends and family.  But by focusing on the big happinesses we often drive right by the small happinesses. After all, the small happinesses are usually commonplace, nothing special to brag about, nothing more than anyone on your block experienced yesterday. But oh!  what happiness we miss when we pass them by.

Stop and smell the roses!  And enjoy the Small Happinesses.