Rose-Colored Hope



After her first day of preschool, I took my granddaughter to her favorite beach. We both took off our shoes and felt the warm, soft sand. Then she rolled up her pant legs and waded along the shore. It was sunny and balmy—a beautiful gift with autumn upon us.

Then we spotted something pink in the water—a small pair of goggles were partially buried. I dried them off and then she spent the rest of her afternoon looking at shells, rocks, and driftwood through her rose-colored goggles.


“Everything looks so pretty!” she said excitedly.


“Look!” she screamed, “Seattle is pretty!”  I gazed over the water to where I could see downtown Seattle’s iconic Space Needle and city blocks full of skyscrapers. I knew Seattle wasn’t always pretty, but looking at it from a distance, through rose-colored goggles on a sunny day made all the difference.


Of course I could have dampened her young spirit by reminding her that we can’t judge how things really look when we’re using a rose-colored glasses. She’ll learn that all on her own.


I was having one of those days when it was easier to see the dark side of things. Negativity can be as infectious as this stupid virus our world is battling. I sighed one of those deep sighs we make when it seems that's all we can do.


My granddaughter looked over at me worriedly and handed me the goggles. "You need to look at everything!" I peered through them. Things did look prettier through the rose-colored glasses, but it was her laughter and excitement that offered the real dose of hope I needed. 


When we packed up to go, she left with a pair of washed up rose-colored goggles and I left with a smile and a memorable reminder that I really can choose how I want to look at things. 





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