Maeve Greyson

[URL="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bsw3-pEcfoo/TKEancim6dI/AAAAAAAAALk/31eKTE74_5Q/s1600/130.JPG"][IMG]http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bsw3-pEcfoo/TKEancim6dI/AAAAAAAAALk/31eKTE74_5Q/s320/130.JPG[/IMG][/URL]How do the very young become so very wise? My six year old granddaughter and I sat on the porch swing, enjoying the refreshing autumn breeze on a Sunday afternoon. She'd found a wondrous rock, all smooth and shining with the most interesting indentations around the circumference of its egg-shaped surface. This special rock exuded magical properties. It was a wishing rock. She informed me we needed to hold this lucky rock against our foreheads, close our eyes and make our wishes. The rock allowed us each three wishes. I didn't know how she knew this, but such sincerity shone in her clear blue eyes, I didn't doubt her a bit.

She held the rock to her forehead, closed her eyes and made her wishes. Then she pressed the cool stone of promise against my brow so that I could make mine. I made my wishes. Who wouldn't take a chance at a little extra luck? I opened my eyes and asked her what else we should do to make certain our wishes came true? Did we need to keep them a secret? What were the wishing rock's rules?

Her eyes widened and she stared at me. "YaYa, don't you know the secret to making [I][B]all[/B][/I] your wishes come true?"

I squirmed a bit beneath such scrutiny, reluctant to admit the truth. "No. What's the secret?"

"It's easy," she said. "All you have to do is [I][B]believe[/B][/I] in yourself."

My heart swelled at the sincerity in her tone. Such wise advice coming from one so young. She knew the secret and I didn't. I thanked her for teaching me such a simple lesson that I wish I'd learned long ago.