My Aunt Debbie recently started blogging and is again proving that compared to many in my family I write like a four year old.  Her latest post reaffirms something I’ve often suspected: she’s the most positive thinking person I’ve ever known.  Don’t believe me?  Anyone who kind find beauty in the Detroit airport is truly amazing:

in January of 1981 we moved to Detroit where, having arrived at the
airport in the midst of a history-making winter storm, I waited with
Adam while his Dad went out to find our rental car. After about 30
minutes I wearily created a playpen from our pile of suitcases and kept
watch for nearly three hours as my one-year-old son toddled, crawled
and rolled around on the nasty cement floor. Our car was out there
somewhere in a deathtrap called “extended stay parking.” Without the
aid of cellphones I had little choice but to wait it out; sitting on
the cement floor of our make-shift playpen and methodically handing out
the last bits of food I’d packed for the trip. Bored, tired, cold and
hungry, I was only slightly amused when I saw Diana Ross walk by
looking worse than I felt. Though our playpen was drafty I knew I
couldn’t change locations or we’d never be found, and I certainly
wasn’t going to risk a trip to the bathroom…

Everything seemed gray; the ceiling, floor, walls, people’s skin. Even
the air seemed pale and lifeless. Having learned the handy skill of
displacement and slightly warmed by the sleeping child in my lap, I
found a temporary respite in memories of better days. The gray colors
surrounding me were the sun-warmed rocks of Stone Mountain. I wore an
old t-shirt that said “RocknRoll HoochieKoo” and my favorite black and
white plaid keds. With hair tied back, scratched knees, and flushed
face, I moved along rock outcroppings…jagged gray leading to more
jagged gray. Many people don’t care for the challenge or starkness of
those kinds of hikes, but a rocky climb does offer its’ own rewards.
It’s not like a hike through a meadow or along a country lane.
Definitely not the same as a slow climb to find expansive views or a
fern covered path by gurgling creeks. Nope, climbing a rock face
requires a narrowly focused view and careful footing. Just what I
needed for my momentary escape from reality. But anyone who’s done this
kind of hike knows that eventually you are startled by a shocking bit
of color. Suddenly a blue or red flower appears in your path. You have
to smile because it’s such a surprise , and you have to gaze in awe at
this beautiful little thing that seems to be growing out of pure rock.
How can it do that??? Well, about this time in my reverie Adam began to
chatter and called my attention to the very present smile of a little
girl. She was too young to talk but Adam clearly understood that she
wanted to climb into our playpen. I looked at her Mom who was Russian,
I think, and crossed our language barrier almost as easily as our
children. Suddenly there were two tired Moms and two dirty kids in the
playpen. The little girl held out a bag of animal crackers. Adam
returned the favor, offering his beloved Cookie Monster. Kids…you gotta
love ‘em. The gray of the airport all but disappeared, melted away by
sweet, mostly wordless companionship. Isn’t it true that we are often
surrounded by loving gifts we can’t see because they’re mingled among
so many other beautiful things? Like the wildflower miraculously
growing on a rock with color stark in contrast to its’ surroundings; in
a cold airport, one little girl’s smile.