Little Things

There, on the shelf in my kitchen, sit my many bottles of herbs and spices. They are little bottles, most usually less than a few ounces. Yet, they are packed with potency! What fragrance! What taste! They transform the dullest of foods into cullinery delights. They are little things, but they are big things for me.

There, on the carpet next to my desk, sits my little dog. She's so tiny, only 8 inches tall, with a tail that can beat up my face in the morning as she wakes me up to take her outside. She's a little thing, but she's so very big to me.

There, sitting on that desk, is my laptop computer. It's smaller than a personal computer, it's a little thing. It's my lifeline to the world: to my family, my friends, my work, my outside. It's a little thing, but it's so big to me.

There, on the bed, sits my son. He used to be a tiny little thing. Born prematurely, and at less than 5.5 pounds, he was so small that when my husband held him in his arm that the boy barely stretched up to his elbow. Now, he's almost up to 6 feet, and a very big person to me.

There, in a dish on the nightstand, next to my side of the bed and on the other side of my desk, sits a ring. I took it off my finger recently. My bare finger feels funny. It feels, well, naked and bare. There is a mark there where the shape of my finger became molded around the band. I put my ring back on for special occasions: when I go grocery shopping, when I go to lunch with the girls. It's such a tiny little thing, but it's ever so precious and so very big to me.

Thank you for sharing my love of little things with me.