hide and seek

This morning I left home at 7:20 to walk to the church for worship team practice.  It was very quiet:  only the occasional dog-walker or jogger was out at that time.  As I walked past what looked like a typical student house on Johnson Street, I heard this small bumping sound.  I looked, and there, in between the curtain and the window of the house, was a tiny girl -- probably under two years old, gently patting the windowpane.  I stopped and looked at her; she saw me, her face lit up with a smile of delight, and she waved.  I waved back and went on my way.

This brief moment of sweetness stayed with me throughout the day.  There was something almost magical about seeing this little person playing happily in an in-between space:  not quite inside and not quite outside either.  I wondered if maybe she was having a game of hide-and-seek with her parents, or if she was just up early because of the time change and had found this secret place to play.  I'll probably never know, and I may never see her again either, at least not in such a unique way.  But it was a precious shared moment that brought us both joy.