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A Precious Little Thing
On the edge of a lade of clearest sparkling blue sat a small creature with wings that appeared to be painted by the hands of God Himself. She peered out over the crystal waters from her perch, a rock smoothed by time and rougher waters. A preciously little thing tugged at her corner of her soft pink lips, a precious thing that started somewhere under her ribs and worked its way up into her head and onto her face. Try as she may, she could not fight the precious thing - although small, possibly irrelevant, she was dwarfed by its power within her. The more she fought the precious thing, the greater its power became, and what would have been just a smile quickly burst forth into silvery laughter. As she laughed, birds found their voices and sang out, so affected were they by the joy that had sprung forth. And still the joy spread. Flowers bloomed and a little summer breeze began to play with them. On the backs of the breeze and the birds, the joy spread beyond the little sheltered enclave, across the lake to a dock where someone was waiting. Weary was she, and quite forlorn. Much time had past since her waiting began, and in this waiting, a sadness has begun. Timidly, the breeze approached and kissed her cheek as it passed. Slowly, tenderly, the girl reached up and touched the place where the breeze kissed, and in doing so, she opened a little doorway into her heart which the joy found with ease and began to work its magic. Any excuse to smile was a good one, and as she did, the joy took hold and blessed her.
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