I got lost on the internet, watching
videos of child prodigies. It began with a nine year old whose life changed last week when she sang on Holland's Got Talent. Then I followed links to an eight year old whose
paintings are pricier that my house, a
little girl
who splashes pigment on canvases and sells them at an elite gallery in the Big Apple, and a young piano player who may outshine
Mozart.
It was fun for awhile, but then it went sour.
"His pictures aren't all that great. Her voice is sweet but there are half a dozen kids as good.
Jackie, for one,
Charlotte for two."
Probably I was succumbing to a case of jealousy. If someone else's kids are worthy of a standing ovation, or a rave review in the Huffington Post, my kids are by contrast unremarkable.
Yet I find that I smile every time my eyes fall on the painting done by Hope in second grade of angels appearing to the shepherds. My heart springs every time I hear Ben break out with a throaty rendition of Come, Worship the Lord or Pink Elephants on Parade. Although she never made Reddit, my daughter Mercy once had a great costume made of balloons.
While they will never appear in a You Tube gone viral, they are an irreplaceable blessing in my world.
It is easy to look at other marriages and feel envious. They are more romantic, more trendy, more suave. But as a wise person reminded me, we have a habit of comparing our inside with another person's outside.
