Our wonderful granddaughter, not quite two months old, has been remaking our world. It is not just her indisputable beauty, her disarming charm, or her obvious brilliance. It is something more, something deeper and even a bit mysterious.
In the past few days Ashley has begun to smile and even to seemingly laugh inwardly in response to external stimuli. It is now too frequent and predictable to allow you cynics to dismiss it as gas. This beautiful little girl is beginning to know joy.
But why? I'll admit my three-finger helicopter landing on her stomach is pretty entertaining. My ability to twist my face into something resembling a mop would obviously result in gales of laughter among those older and more sophisticated. But how does Ashley know this is funny stuff?
It may seem like an insignificant question, but I think it is something well worth pondering. I cannot account for it except to say it seems clear that laughter and joy are inbred and not learned. To have joy, to laugh, to smile--these are inherently a part of what it means to be a human being.
I have had the privilege of traveling rather widely throughout the world. I can distinctly remember playing with a group of children in an African village. We shared no common language. We came from entirely different worlds. But within minutes we were all laughing and joking together as we played little games that American children would readily know. Laughter knows no geography, culture, or language. It comes from within.
There are many things in our world that conspire to snuff out joy and to mute laughter. To do so is a crime against humanity. Ashley has reminded me that a smile is far more than a pleasingly upturned lip. It is a declaration of life itself.
I had no choice. I had to just sit there and watch the ballgame, unwilling to disturb her slumber. Once the game concluded she awoke with a multitude of smiles. They are continuing even now as she plays.
