The look in her eyes

So I was going through some old pictures today, and I came across this little wallet-sized picture of myself in (what I believe was) my kindergarten year. (Wow. That is some dress I have on.)

I'm actually pretty tickled with it, because if you can tell, I still smile the same way now, often a little half-smile with a good measure of reserve behind it. What's most different about me now (well, aside from the size issue) is that this little girl's eyes are different than mine. Oh, they're still the same light brown, but the expression in them is different. Which, I guess is only to be expected.

This little girl has years ahead of her full of family reunions & beach trips & school reports & squabbles with siblings & getting in HUGE trouble with Mom & Dad. She's got years of beating herself up for not being pretty enough or smart enough or easy enough around other people. She has strikes for independence from her parents in her future & learning how to draw properly & discovering that her voice is a pretty good instrument & finally understanding that a mission really is one of the hardest experiences you can go through in your life, as well as one of the best. She'll have struggles with friends & with grades & have moments of sheer bliss and sheer longing and will read thousands & thousands of books, both good & bad.

But she hasn't gone through any of that yet. (Except maybe the squabbling with siblings part.) And when you look in her eyes, you can see that. There's an innocence that a lack of experience brings, & it's there. It's strange to realize that I once looked out of my eyes like that, that I once carried that expression. And, while it's true that there are some days I would love to have that expression back, still I think that the expression in my eyes now is, if less innocent, perhaps (I hope) just a bit more full of the wisdom that experience brings.