The Beauty Of Them

She stands there in the doorway peering at me with rainbows and butterflies in her eyes. Her beautiful mind chases those winged critters. She calls to them from her perch upon that colorful arch. She doesn’t really hear me as I call her name, not really. It’s so easy to stay in that place I see reflected in her gaze.

He stands behind her. His eyes sparkling a shiny blue mischief below that cocky cowlick. The intensity that is him, emanates from his sturdy little boy body. His pointy eyebrows furrow as his crooked little mouth spouts back at me, “Grandma! What do you want? We wanna go play outside!” His hand rubs a dirty trail across his brow.

The butterflies skitter and scoot away in a poof. Her lovely almond eyes focus and she snaps to attention. A barefooted little waif below a heavy mass of long dark hair, she confirms her brother. “Did you call me? Will you come play with us before it’s too dark!”

I am lost for a bit in the beauty of them. Best friends, big sister and little brother. Two hearts forever entwined. The perfect, raw innocence captured in that single moment. My heart squeezes a bit at the sureness that this is but one tiny flash of their life. Never to be remembered by them as they grow like the wild weeds in my back yard.

The waning sun cradles them, standing at my door with questions in their eyes. They can’t know the perfect gifts their souls are for me. A dirty little foot lifts to scratch a bruised leg as pictures echo. I think I hear my own intense little brother with mischief in his call. Long gone summer evening, he perches on that old walnut tree swing with fireflies in his eyes. Calling and calling, “Come on Sis! Come swing with me!” I was always lost in the beauty that was us. Best friends. Hearts forever entwined.

I shoo them out the door as the heat rises up to hug them. Run free little ones. Chase those butterflies, slide down that rainbow. They don’t understand how they came to me. They didn’t get to meet her as a little girl. Their own mama, running through the green grass, calling to me through the years. No they will never know their uncle when he was just a boy. That sweet boy with the teasing eyes and same cocky cowlick. She hangs upside down with flowers in her hair. Butterflies and rainbows all up in her mind. He laughs at her and turns to call to me, ” Hey Mama, come play with us!” Little sister and big brother, unaware of the beauty that was them. Best friends. Hearts forever entwined.

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