(I do my best . . .)


I really do try to go to sleep at night.

(Define  night.)

But most of the time sleep just doesn’t come.      It’s cold around here.   32 degrees outside.  Perfect night for a fire in the fireplace.

And those are my two feet keeping warm in front of the fire.

It’s getting to be about 2:30 a.m.,  which is the time my body normally begins to feel sleepy.     But the fireplace is so darn entertaining tonight.

As long as I can remember,  I sleep well between 2:30 and 9:30, which is fine as long as you don’t have to be anywhere in the early morning.

(Define  early!)

Nighttime is good for musing.

I was thinking today how different people are,  so different and so unique, and right from their early childhood.  I can’t show you any photos because I didn’t have permission, of course, to take pictures of little children who are complete strangers,   but I had an interesting observation this afternoon:

Two fathers.  Each with a little tiny daughter, two to three years old,  each in a child’s stroller.    And each entering our local library about the same time as I did.

Held the door open for one father-and-daughter combination.     The father was friendly. The little tiny thing was all bundled up in her stroller so I could hardly see her face, but she had a little giggle.   As the father stopped at the desk to pick up a book reserved for him, the little girl would speak out the cutest, most delightful happy  “Hi !”   to anyone who walked by.   The kind that made you want to answer.

The father stooped down to open up her hat and scarf and hood  (it was a cold day, you  know?)     As he peeled off all her layers,  there she was —  big, bright eyes,  eagerly looking at the whole new world that was revealed to her —  and she seemed to like it and  to like the people around her –  and she made happy cooing sounds.  I actually felt happy in her presence, and walked on down the library hallway with a smile on my face, as though I had just seen something sweet and lovely.

And there I saw the second father-and-daughter combination.    They had come in just before us.  She was a pretty little girl with round cheeks, big blue eyes,  blond curly hair — and the most nervous,  uneasy,  uncomfortable expression on her face.  She just wasn’t  sure of something.

Her Daddy was patiently explaining where they were and what they were going to be doing and that she had been there before.    But she looked worried.   She didn’t cry,  but she said a few words which sounded like she was looking at the possible negative outcome of whatever they were going to do.

It might have been  the big hallway,  the ceiling going way up high,  strangers walking by,   and some big open rooms that you could go into, but you don’t know what’s going to be in there and maybe someone would talk to you or you’d have to do something you didn’t know how to do or  . . . .    It was just all so uncertain. . . .

Two pretty little girls,  two very attentive, loving fathers,   same little visit to the library,  but oh, such different personalities.   They were so young, this was their natural dispositions.

People are all born with a certain set of characteristics,  similar to some others maybe,  but not the same.

And those are the characteristics you have to work with all your life!



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