Through the Eyes of a Child

     What if we all viewed life through the eyes of a child.  Oh, the simplicity and beauty we would see.  As grown ups we have so many worries.  Pleasing the boss at work, meeting deadlines, keeping things running smoothly at home, paying the bills, washing dishes, making sure there is clean underwear for everyone, running here and there for this meeting and that rehearsal...the list goes on and on and on.
     Putting that aside and looking through a child's eyes we might focus on seeing how many times we can jump on one foot (at my age, though, I fear getting hurt!), inspecting a bug, catching a frog, chasing bubbles, collecting rocks just because they look pretty, laughing at the fun of playing with friends, running just to feel the wind, or coloring a picture with as many crayons as possible.
     When adults see me these days, they often give me a look of sympathy because I obviously have been through a trial.  Sometimes I get smiles of encouragement.  Saturday I ran into an old friend in Walmart.  She was coming toward me to say, "I love your hair!" when she looked into my eyes and realized who I was.  We had a wonderful time laughing together as she asked about my health and rejoiced at my good outcome.  Originally she was just going to offer words of support to a stranger, but it turned out to be a fun time for us both. 
     My hair garners many comments.  The most often asked question is, will it be curly?  My answer:  I have no idea.  Right now it is less than half an inch long and way too short to curl.  A lot of it is still chemo fuzz.  It will be what it will be.  Yes, I hope to have my curl back, but whatever it is will be fine.  I get comments about the color.  People talk about the shape and direction it is growing.  There is so much concern...from adults. 
     But through the eyes of a child...

     Yesterday at church, my little six-year-old friend whom I had not seen in a couple of weeks (since going "topless" --you know, without my hat!) came running up to me after church.  He stopped short and just looked at me, seeming to be a little afraid to come too close.  That's probably from all the warnings after my surgery to be gentle.  Then he smiled and came closer.  We laughed and greeted each other, holding hands and hugging.  Then he said, "Miss Vicki, you look so pretty with your haircut."  My heart melted.  He looked at me and saw ME, Miss Vicki.  He didn't see a cancer survivor.  He didn't see a woman who had been fighting for her life this year and spends her days now trying to regain her strength and her health.  He didn't see a woman who is so tired by mid-day that she has to nap or she won't be able to take another step.  He saw his friend - the lady whose necklaces he loved to pull on as an infant.  The friend who loves to have him spend the night (though we don't do it enough) and play.  The friend who never has gum.  The friend who loves him and he loves in return.
     I was just amazed.  It was a refreshing drink of cool water to hear those words from him.  It reminded me that there is more to life than cancer...there is beauty in friendship.