Tim pulls back and lets her go toward the skies like a rubber band. She laughs, unfettered - eyes sparkling, lips parted: "HIGHER! HIGHER!"
"That IS high," he protests.
"That's NOT HIGH," she shouts back, indignantly.
The higher she is, the happier she is...yet it's still not quite high enough.
I sit on the park bench, holding her baby sister, watching the exchange with a slight smile on my face.
As I watch, I think of this little swing ride as a metaphor. I catch my breath and pray quietly, "Help her to dream big, to reach high...to always, always say, 'That's NOT HIGH' when people tell her that her dreams are too wide and deep."
And then Shel Silverstein's famous poem whispers across my mind -
Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child.
Listen to the DON'TS.
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS.
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS.
Listen to the NEVER HAVES.
Then listen close to me -
Anything can happen, child.
ANYTHING can be.