Tiny, Perfect

In the past 24 hours, I went to a drive-in movie, saw a very small bunny, smelled a yellow rose, ate a flavor of ice-cream called Oatmeal Cookie Dough, and met the daughter of a friend. This friend I knew years ago way before marriage and children. The sweet baby was tiny and perfect. 

Someone told me on Thursday night that one can’t be thankful and anxious at the same time, as if the brain simply can’t or won’t allow it. I’m testing the theory and finding the joy of rejoicing again in small things, like I did years ago when Live with Flair–my grand experiment!–began.
So I think again about that bunny that I could fit in my palm–that wriggling nose and those little, soft ears. Tiny, perfect things!

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