The wind whips her hair into her face, but she’s too pleased with her handful of wildflowers to notice.
At first glance, this is just a brightly colored painting of a happy little girl doing what countless other little girls have done since the beginning of time. When I look at this piece though, I see something more.
I see a toddler who just a few months before would force a laugh because it was expected of her, but never giggled like a normal two-year-old. She would attempt to stretch her mouth into the form of a smile, but it never reached her eyes. I see a child with a dark and troubled background, who had to be taught what it meant to be a child. I see a little girl who, after a few months of being loved and feeling safe, learned what it felt like to experience joy. I see someone who began to find beauty in life, even with the wind pushing and pulling at her. I see a precious little one who, in just a short season, blossomed like the wildflowers clutched in her hand.
I know, only those who walked that journey with this little girl might see what I see, and that’s okay. It doesn’t bother me if no one else sees anything other than a colorful painting. When I started this project, I was really only trying to capture her joy. And I think I did that. But for me, this piece became more. It became symbolic of how far this little one came in such a short time. And it became a reminder of how much I loved seeing that smile every day, and how much I miss being part of her life. I look forward to the day when I hear that she is still finding beauty in the little things, and that she has discovered the true source of joy.
~Elisabeth~