Week 3: Joy - Friday

Earlier this week, I watched my granddaughters' Christmas delight bubble up and over into giggles and shrieks along with bounces and twirls and bends in ways I can now only dream of. Decorating the Christmas tree was all a blur of joyful movement that left me in an exhausted state of awe.  

But they weren't done yet. There were cookies to be decorated and baked, followed by cardmaking. These tasks were a little more concentrated, a little quieter but no less joyful. Applying that last sprinkle on the cookie tray, that last sticker on the card, elicited  huge smiles accompanied by jubilant departures from the table in search of  the to next activity.

The winter wonderland outside my door had been beckoning since they arrived, but now it was time to get out there. They tromped through the knee-high snow, falling down and bouncing back up again.

Last but by no means least the older one saw an opportunity she just could not pass up. She plunked herself down into the snow on her back then swung her arms and legs back and forth. Just like a pro, she got herself up, leaving behind a snow angel. As I watched, joy bubbled up inside me bringing with it so many memories of winter fun. I was energized and I really wanted to get down into that snow to make my own angel. The smooth white eiderdown-like blanket of snow was so inviting... but I paused just long enough to let discretion be the better part of valour. At just shy of three months post-back surgery, if I had acted on impulse, however joy-FULL it was, at best it would have brought embarrassment and required a rescue mission, and at worst could have resulted in an injury that neither I nor my orthopedic surgeon would have been happy about. Maybe next year...  

Joy is not something I have to make happen. It's not even something that I  have to actively take part in, but rather it is a pure gift that can be experienced from the sidelines - the exuberant joy of little ones erupting in giggles and twirls, lively spirits, free from the cares of the world, and a granddaughter's snow angel.  

Perfect Joy! 

©2025 April Hoeller