This I Believe

I believe that happiness can be found in a new box of crayons. There’s something about that smell, that familiar fresh, crisp wax smell that can be found in the halls of elementary schools, usually mixed with urine and Lysol. Those pristine, untouched boxes represent endless possibilities, new directions, new beginnings. No tips have been broken, no paper labels ripped, no missing colors. Memories, sensations, smells, and tastes from my youth- take me away, if even for a moment, from the humdrum. These memories don’t cost anything, they are God’s gifts. They are tiny bits of joy in a frantic, bitter, and materialistic world.

I was a very “spirited” child- hyper by some standards, but just excited about life. I showed this enthusiasm through shrieks, impromptu dances, and kazoo like noises made from blades of monkey grass. I wanted to touch everything, , taste everything; including crayons. I remember the feel of thick, red Alabama clay, it’s slimy, but coarse texture and how it stained everything it touched. I would rub it all over my arms and watch it dry in the sun and change colors. It reminded me of my burnt sienna crayon from my box of crayolas. I can still see its pale red color under my nails -that were stained all summer. I remember lying in bed at the lake, listening to the cicadas and the soft sounds of the water; a sound that no Sharper Image device can mimic. I melted ice cubes on my chest while humid breezes, that brought no relief from the steamy ,southern ,summer nights, streamed in through the screens.


I’ll try to come back to these moments to remind myself of what can truly bring happiness. I’ll try to remind myself when I’m at the job, working the long hours, earning the miniscule paycheck, to go out and buy the thing that will “make my life complete” or at least improve it. I believe the greatest things in life are smelled, touched, or tasted. I long for those days when I could open up a new box of crayons and appreciate their simple beauty and endless possibility- with nothing left to be desired.