On Saturday, I met two new people. Literally new, as in newly born, to some friends of mine. The mothers looked exhausted but still radiant somehow; the fathers looked tired but proud; everyone was all smiles.
Anytime I have a newborn in my arms, I immediately start swaying from side to side. I remember that feeling of being a new mother, holding a precious life tucked snug against my heart. I look into his eyes, take note of little lips and tiny fingers, inhale that baby smell, and murmur sweet nothings--a blessing of sorts over his life.
Babies are born every day, every minute even. The sheer number of births, however, does not diminish the value of each one. Just because we can explain the mechanics does not mean that any birth is any less miraculous.
But some babies are not born. Some are lost--whether through natural means or unnatural interference.
Have you ever noticed that lofty principles and abstract ideologies (of all kinds) become hollow when you look into the eyes of a living, breathing human being?
Every baby is precious, every one a work of art, every one knit together by the hands of God.
Tiny hands that grasp grown-up fingers, eyes that see (however dimly at first), ears that know their parents’ voices, lungs that capture and release air, hearts that pump lifeblood through tiny bodies.
Living, breathing beauty, for which there is no equal on earth.
Amazing.
What do you think? Is every baby precious? Do you think that babies or, for that matter, humans in general can be classified as beautiful? Why or why not? If so, where does that beauty come from? Let me know what you think in the comments below.
Photo courtesy of Unsplash.
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