Bad Day

Zoe had a bad day Sunday, like the children's book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. After a particularly hard moment she ran upstairs. I followed and found her curled up tight on a pink beanbag. I plopped down and wrapped my arms around her as tears started to fall.

"It's been an awful day," she wailed. "Why can't we ever have a perfect week or even a perfect day."

I reminded her of lots of many wonderful days we've shared, but she pointed out a flaw in each one. "None of them was perfect," she said. She was right. Something had gone awry during each of them, even if it was just a small bump.

I tried to explain that sometimes it's best to judge life in moments. "Like right now," I said. "This is a perfect moment. Even though you're sad and have had a bad day, you're cuddled in my arms getting lots of love. That's a good thing."

I shared the following quote from Gordon B Hinckley with her.

“Life is just like an old time rail journey ... delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”

I love that imagery. My life seems an awful lot like an old train lately, rumbling along, choking up clouds of smoke, occasionally even getting derailed. But I picture myself leaning my head against the smooth window as we near the end of yet another mountain climb, straining to see that new vista though the hazy glass. I know it will be worth it in the end.

 

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