The minute I spend letting Audrey walk holding my hand instead of sticking her in the stroller and ‘efficiently’ walking around the park while waiting for the kids to finish music class.  I wouldn’t mind the exercise.  I certainly know I need it.  But I can see her little body leading me down the path before have time to think longer about getting the stroller out.

That minute leads to more lovely minutes.  At her mere 27 inch height, she spots a bright green caterpillar inching along on the sidewalk.

She squeels and points and demands that I delight with her in the discovery.

I kneel.  I listen.  I watch.  I smile.  Then I sit on the sidewalk with her.

Exercise it is not.  Efficient?  Not one bit.

Beautiful is the delicate caterpillar.

Sweet is the sound of her voice.

Perfect is that moment sitting on the cold concrete alone with my fourth born.

I am still continually amazed at what follows when I choose to give a minute.

A minute of attention, a minute of laughter, a minute of snuggling, a minute of helping…

Just one, tiny minute.

We picked up the little green friend, put him on a leaf and walked some more.  I sang softly as we meandered slowly down the path.   We shared our discovery with the rest of music class and then he found his way to the dirt and we found our way home.

Simple and boring it may sound.  But a delightful, precious morning is what it was for me.

All because of a shared little minute.