This past week, four-year-old grandson H. noticed an accumulation of pocket change my Beloved had dropped onto the counter beside the bathroom sink. With typical gusto, this little guy exclaimed, “Looks like it’s my lucky day!” Of course, my Beloved was thoroughly amused and passed the tale onto me. (I promptly related the story to his parents.)

Given this grandson’s tender age, he has no actual need for money. In fact, give him a couple pennies and within a short while, he’ll have dropped them on a table somewhere … favoring instead a toy car or Legos. Like most little boys, his attention span is the length of a distraction. No matter what he’s busy doing, it won’t be long before he’s moved on to something else equally interesting.

Furthermore, the boy has no concept of value yet. When my Beloved asked whether he wanted a dime or a quarter, he chose a dime, which my Beloved immediately gave him. He could hold a hundred dollar bill in his little fist and it would have no greater meaning to him than any other piece of paper (or fabric). He is oblivious.

Consider also, his comprehension of what “lucky day” means, it’s totally limited. He has (obviously) heard this phrase from one (or more) of the adults in his life and is parroting the specific emotion he’s witnessed as the words were said. He knows there’s something “good” about the phrase, but precisely what, he couldn’t tell you.

This kind of childish exuberance is restorative! I realized my grandson is a great model for us oldsters who have forgotten what it’s like to fully embrace life’s regular gifts.

When we were visiting with relatives in south Arkansas over the weekend, we had the privilege to enjoy the company of our eldest daughter (delayed birthday party that she didn’t know we’d be attending) and her family. Our daughter’s four children were together, enjoying the rollicking good time that often takes place when extended families gather … cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. … with the multiple conversations and reminiscences that occur at such times. Laughter, even tears (remembering those departed), and once again, a precious reminder of love shared and generously multiplied.

I had the joy of visiting with an elderly man (nearing 90), my son-in-law’s granddaddy. It was a quiet interlude of listening to the man relate some of his life stories. There was nothing earthshaking in our conversation, but I considered our time together a privileged interaction. As an individual who carries God’s image, this man has lived a long and honorable life; whether he lives another week or ten more years, he graciously shared a snippet of his life with me. It was my lucky day!

We laughed and played with our four grandchildren, observing their interactions with the other children and adults. Each such occasion allows us to observe their unique qualities and note the beauty in each one. How are they like their parents? How are they different? Are there familial characteristics recognizably present? Which ones are leaders? Again, the vision of God’s image imprinted on their souls is remarkable. Knowing them is a privilege. Both Saturday and Sunday were my lucky days!

Listening today to a violin solo of Camille Saint-Saen’s The Swan (masterfully played by violinist Joshua Bell from the album Romance of the Violin) reminded me again, today’s my lucky day! I am privileged to have at my disposal (aided by the click of a mouse) music that makes my spirit soar. I can listen all day to The Swan, or play other tracks from the album, or play tracks from dozens of other albums I’ve collected. With such an array of heavenly music, how could it not be my lucky day?!

When I wake tomorrow morning, I know I’ll have another opportunity to look around me and find something beautiful and amazing and wonderful. I’ll be challenged to throw open my arms and greet the day as if I’d never experienced another one quite like it … and I’ll know, once again … looks like this will be my lucky, lucky day!