Ainsley is our little runner. She loves to run, on tiptoes, back and forth across our yard. She beams and pumps her arms as if her arm movement will propel her further and faster. She laughs at her own wild abandon and she falls more often than not. She is the definition of clumsy, and she doesn’t care. Ainsley doesn’t waiver when she comes upon a hole in the yard-she runs around it. She leaps over stray sticks and laughs. She yells a girly war cry when Greenley tries to catch up. Her girly war cry is really just a cry of encouragement to “Run a little faster, Greenley!”. Ainsley already knows that running with someone is always more fun than running alone. She stops to catch her breath, but only for a moment. The thrill of the wind in her face is much more exciting than sitting on the swing.
Ainsley sees the prize each time her little bare feet hit the grass. Her prize is not something she is hoping to win. Her prize is found in the sheer JOY of the run. It is JOY. Her little face lights up in laughter when she is dashing across the yard and that JOY is what she is chasing.
Simple joy found in simple running. Not the joy found in attainment…JOY in the pursuit.