“Mama, you have wishes ALL over your boots,” she said. “Make a wish!”
We’d been walking in fields spotted with dewy dandelions most of the morning. My husband had asked me to collect soil samples. I agreed, because I knew he needed my help, but I wasn’t thrilled with the request. Luckily, I had company – my cheerful 5-year-old daughter.
What I saw as a chore, she viewed as an adventure. The fields were her playground; the bugs were her friends; and the dandelions were her dreams. She certainly knew how to pleasantly pass the time. When she wasn’t telling me stories or asking me endless questions, many of which I didn’t know the correct answer to, but rather encouraged her to “Ask Daddy later,” she would stop, pick a dandelion, and blow off the seed head.
The dandelions were no more than weeds to me, but to her they were special wishes. Her sincere enthusiasm and encouragement to see the weed’s magical potential was infectious. By the end of our little walk, her observation was correct; my black rubber boots were indeed covered in white seedy puffs.
After my daughter’s prompt, “Make a wish,” I stared at my wish-coated muck boots for a moment, closed my eyes, and sent up a silent prayer for the thing I want most – happiness. When I opened my eyes, her smiling face was the first thing I saw.
My young daughter understands my wish; she is the epitome of glee. Childhood is meant to be happy and magical; it’s a time of sheltered exploration and unbridled imagination. It’s more about special, simple moments with family and friends than expensive items or vacations. When I left that morning to collect soil samples on the farm, accompanied by my joyful, nature-loving child, my wish was granted.