Charlotte, one of the undisputed apples of my eye, approached me when she was six with a thick piece of green cardstock clutched in her hand. Festooned in crudely rendered crayon was the figure of a girl—one with impossibly long eyelashes—settled below the arch of a rainbow, arms extended and a smile spread from ear to ear.
Thrusting it at me, she said, “This is you, Granny, walking through a rainbow. Because there are always rainbows where you are.”
It had been a particularly rough day, filled with things that so often make up rough days to those of us taller than five feet, those of us even older than the trees planted along the walk out front. In the middle of such a rough day, that crude crayon drawing on the slightly rumpled piece of cardstock instantly changed everything. To me, it represented pure love. To read more, click the button below.
American film writer and producer Stephen Kendrick wrote, “The truth is this: love is not determined by the one being loved but rather by the one choosing to love.” In her sweet and simple crayon rendering, Charlotte poured into my soul her choice to love. To love me. It was a gift I will cherish long after her drawing is gone.
As I took that piece of green cardstock home and looked for a place of honor in which to post it—it seemed far too valuable for the fridge, to be aimlessly plopped under the weight of a souvenir magnet—it occurred to me that each of us is born with the ability to change someone’s life. Such a change doesn’t have to consist of monumental effort. It can come in simple, fleeting moments, just like the one in which Charlotte fashioned her portrait of me. It can come in easy smiles or a warm embrace. It can come in anything that lets another know we love him. In whatever way it happens, this much is certain: we should never waste it. We should never squander the chance to transform another life.
How many times should I let someone know that wherever he is there are rainbows? How often should I mentally clutch a brilliant red crayon and outline a heart against the battered soul of a loved one? Is there ever a time when I should stop trying to lift a sagging spirit?
No. I should start right now, and I should never stop.
Oh, Charlotte, let me follow in your footsteps. Let me be for another the boon you were for me. And no matter what, let me love you a little more, every single day, before you’re not little anymore.