My neighbors set off fireworks from Memorial Day until Labor Day. And I complain about it to pretty much anyone who will listen.
Tonight was no exception. I was thinking about how much I hated the smell of firework smoke in my neighborhood/house on my run tonight, when I saw two boys – both under 8 – sitting on their fence in complete and total awe.
The younger of the two boys saw me coming and excitedly pointed to the sky. “There is fire up there!!!” he shouted over the music in my headphones.
He couldn’t wait to tell anyone and everyone – even a complete stranger – about this amazing thing that he was excited about.
The same fireworks that I hate were the things that he was amazed by. It made me wonder when I lost the wonder and happiness of the world around me. I’m much more apt to see the negative stuff and be cynical and jaded before I am captured by utter incredible-ness.
One of my friends asked me this week if I ever just stopped and was amazed by God. I don’t. But, like my friend and the bespectacled boy that loves fireworks, I want to be.
