Happy

“Mommy, I am happy”

This was my youngest son’s pronouncement as he took in the view from his window on our flight back to Manila. His eyes seemed to sparkle and he looked so earnest. Why, I asked; I just feel it, he answered.

I’m actually amazed by this little boy’s ability and readiness to articulate his deepest feelings. I say deep because happiness is a term he doesn't casually throw around. Four year olds may be expected to equate happy with gifts, sweets and other treats. But this was not about any of those things.

He was just looking out the window, watching in midair the clouds, the glorious sunset and, a few minutes earlier, a heart-shaped islet. What could have moved him to say he's happy? Perhaps (and this is probably me pushing things a little too much) he recognized the magnificence and beauty of it all, and that right there and then, up in the air, nothing could ever go wrong.

Whatever it was, it was not children’s cliché or mundane at all.

Back home two weeks after, he declared it again. We were just goofing around with his dad and brothers in our mini-backyard when he suddenly whispered to me that he’s happy. He said it was because we were all together and his kuyas are healthy. How about mom, dad, lola being healthy, too? Yes, that, too, he assured me.

Oh Zion! To perceive the imperceptible, to have a sensitive heart, you are a marvelous kid, just like your brothers.

These are moments you just want to freeze. In a fleeting moment of seeming perfection, your heart flies and sings with gratitude. Gratitude for a happy child, for simple joys, for love, for family.

A child’s soul is such a beauty.

I hope growing up never changes it.