Yesterday, while watching a little girl in a pink bonnet, pink mittens, and a soft creamy scarf knotted neatly around her neck, I noticed her holding the swing tightly as she swung freely and cheerfully. I saw her smiles, her small uneven teeth, and her unexplained happiness. How pure her smiles were, her deep blue eyes admiring every push her mother made.

Pure laughter. Little giggles. Pure child. Pure heart.

Admiring the view and listening to her sweet laughter, my eyes were not glued to the child alone but wandered with the swing. It moved back and forth, coming and going, through and through. The squeaking of the metal, the rattling of the chain, the snowflakes scattered in the park, and the joy on her face reminded me how happiness could be so simple. She didn’t notice the noise. She only noticed the beauty and the fun of it all. Careless. Carefree. And very happy!

Like a child, how I dream to enjoy every ride of my life! Yes, you can never buy time. You can’t retrieve it, either. But, would I barter my happiness because I’m catching and moving to and fro with time? How I think? How I wonder? Like the child and the swing, it described its meaning. Like me and time. I was swinging through time, catching all the events of my life, watching the snow coming and going, wishing it to go away—never even appreciating its glory. How ungrateful have I become? Catching the bus, chasing the train, running back and forth in the subway. Did I even appreciate the day? How I dream that like a child, I can laugh purely as the winter pours. Like a child, I can giggle through the day as time goes by. Like a child, I can let time come and enjoy it as far as it goes.

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