Simple Ordinary Joy
- Meara Dixon
- Dec 18, 2018
- 2 min read
I did not want to go. It was cold, dark and it had been a long day in the middle of an already long week.
Last week my family planned to go to the zoo and see their special zoo lights at night.
Don't get me wrong, I love anything that has to do with Christmas, but I wasn't "feeling" it that night.
I went anyway.
I stepped outside and immediately tensed up from the cold even though my heavy winter jacket was zipped up tight. Now, my New England friends might laugh when they hear it was only 40 degrees.
But the wind was whipping that night. Maybe that's what made it feel colder. Maybe I am just getting weak.
I relaxed as we stepped into the zoo entrance and soon after heard people singing. Quickly, we noticed a group of young people singing beautiful Christmas songs. They danced and harmonized so well; we ended up lingering to listen to them for awhile.
That musical treat was certainly unexpected. Those carolers put me in the mood to enjoy myself that evening.
And I did.
Nothing spectacular happened at the zoo. The lights were merely pretty and the much anticipated "light show" at the lake left much to be desired.
But I was happy. I was pulled along by my four year old nephew who wanted to see everything. Even the dark exhibits where you could not view the animals. "Liam, we just came here to see the lights. You're not going to see many animals."
I was thankful. I had a long conversation with my one year old nephew, him bundled up in a stroller and me crouched down next to it, about snakes. He had not been feeling well that day and had been pretty grumpy, but I was pleased to see the sparkle in his eyes as he told me all he knew about this reptile.
I was amused as my nieces and nephews broke out dancing to Christmas songs next to the dark lion exhibit.
I found happiness, thankfulness and amusement that evening. Thank goodness I went or I would have missed out on these simple joys.
As we walked away from the zoo, saying good-night to the animals we couldn't see, my hand still clutching my nephew's, I really didn't feel the cold.

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