Mary felt the light brush of her long hair against the small of her back and felt a tingle of pleasure shoot up her spine. Gooseflesh appeared on her arms and legs; looking at her arms she smiled. She was seated, eyes closed, at her vanity table with the lights dimmed thinking about the day. Her smile broadened as she thought of her grandchildren cavorting on the lawn. So full of life, they seemed to gravitate like moths to the lawn games. Engaging in the game whith a wholehearted intent, as only children can, causing adults to look upon them in amazement wondering where the time has gone. Their whooping and jumping as they hit or missed depending on the toss was a sight to behold.
Mary was brushing her long hair, listening to the crackle of static electricity as the brush flowed through the thickness. Hair waist length for as long as she could remember. Her mother had told her many times, “A woman’s glory is her hair. God has given it to her as a covering.” She had not understood at the time, but took pleasure that God had thought to give her a glorious mane. In her mind’s eye, she pictured herself in high school, taking pleasure in the beauty of her hair as it shone in the sun. Her smile softened, as she watched her features morph from those remembered to present.
Mary had always believed it sad everyone would not embrace the idea that much pleasure in life is gained from little things. The peace that settled upon her as she passed the brush through her locks. A deliberate time to recall the day’s little events: the children hugging her close, her husband’s grin, the beauty of the flowers in the garden, and how the sun had fought to stay above the edge of the ocean. Flooded with gratitude, Mary felt pleasure and knew the Father was watching.