There is much to be said about the effects young children have upon grownups, especially those of us who are retired and living far from our grandchildren. These little energetic bundles of joy see the world through an unjaded lens, a lens that enables them to enjoy life’s simple pleasures.  

 As a former teacher of young children and a grandmother of two teenagers, I find that I miss sharing in the innocence and sense of discovery that comes with seeing children at play. That is why, when young children come to visit relatives at the Florida community where I spend half of my year, I am once again reminded of how the world is filled with wonder when seen through the eyes of a child. Such was the case when Peighton, the granddaughter of a friend of mine, came to visit her grandparents.

Peighton is a precocious soon-to-be-three-year-old with a ready smile, boundless energy, and the spontaneity inherent in children discovering the world around them. Her cheerful “hello” and outgoing personality captures the hearts of all who are fortunate enough to meet and greet her as she buoyantly makes her way into the community pool. With wavy locks of hair tied up in a small ponytail atop her head, and her small floaties embracing her little arms, Peighton draws all within earshot into her circle of delight.

As I watched Peighton, I thought back to my own children and grandchildren when they were at her age. I thought about how, in that short early childhood stage, they filled my brain with a multitude of treasured memories, memories that children like Peighton unwittingly reignite. I smile with love in my heart and vivid images in my brain of a world filled with untainted adventures, excitement, and limitless possibilities.

On one of my usual early morning walks, my eyes were drawn to a bunch of chalk drawings on the roadway in front of Peighton’s grandparents’ house. I smiled as the image of Peighton, busily drawing colorful rainbows and suns, came to mind; a young artist at work, unleashing her imagination onto an otherwise drab, sunbaked, pavement. I thought about how children can derive so much pleasure from the simplest of activities. Have they any idea as to how much pleasure they give to the observers of their artistry? With newfound spring in my step, I continued my walk with ease.

After Peighton’s departure, I once again took my usual daily walk around our condo complex. Once again, as I walked past Peighton’s grandparents’ house, my eyes fell upon the chalk drawings that managed to survive lawn waterings and automobile traffic; Peighton’s gift of sunshine.