“Try and try and you will get it, Grandma!”

Six-year-old Hanah said that to me, when we were doing a puzzle and I wasn’t finding any pieces that fit.  It was a hard puzzle for a six-year-old (and apparently for me as well): 100 pieces, many of them a big grey cat, and that made it hard.

Then Hanah found a piece, and we cheered, and then I found a piece and we cheered.

“I’m proud of myself when I get a piece,” she told me.  “And I’m proud of you too, Grandma.”

Hanah is six.  And I am 70.

I am now old enough/young enough to know that wisdom comes whenever I open my heart to it.

I’ve been opening my heart a lot this week, around Hanah.

To the wonder that comes from the most ordinary of things, such as the miniature vortex/funnel that the water makes as it drains out of the tub.  “Isn’t it beautiful?  I love you, water.”

To all the giggles of extreme delight, when the dog (visiting, like Hanah) gives kisses to her hands.

To the simple pleasures of summer, like rolling down the green grassy hill in my neighbor Mrs. C’s yard, and then running races back up it.

After we rolled and raced, Hanah said to me, “Does Mrs. C know she’s lucky?”

Mrs. C. is a house-bound widow with a compromised immune system and severe arthritis.

“Does she feel lucky?” I repeated (thinking of Mrs. C.’s daily pain, of her trouble walking, her house-bound status and widowhood).

“Yes,” said Hanah.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of her hill.”

Indeed, it is a champion hill, a gentle slope, grass-covered, and all in shade today, as we raced and rolled and walked and jumped and side-stepped, up and down it, again and again, laughing all the way.

“You’re right, Mrs. C. is blessed with that hill,” I answered.

“What does blessed mean?” Hanah asked.

“It means God has given you something good,” I answered, feeling glad for Mrs. C., that in the midst of all the challenges in her life, she has this simple good thing, this very good rolling hill in her backyard.

So many of Hanah’s words have settled into my heart this week.

To the dream I long for: “Try and try and you will get it, Grandma!”

To the problems in my life, that want to suck all the air out of the room and make me see only black storm clouds:  Look for the green hills in my backyard, that I’ve never noticed before, but that are perfect for fun and joy and happy moments.

Hanah is back with her family now and me, I want to be more like her.

I want to see the wonder in ordinary things.

I want to realize how lucky I am, to have all the good things that I’ve never noticed before.

And I think I will be able to do it.  For I have it on good authority, that I can just “Try and try and you will get it, Grandma!”

P.S. Mrs. C., I think to myself later, is way ahead of me in counting her luck. She’s a woman who never complains about her pain, is always interested in others, and often tells me how grateful she is for every day of life, and to still be in her house.  She and Hanah both have a lot to teach me.