We recently returned from a week-long trip to Disneyland. It was a lot of fun and the kids loved it, especially because Jenna and I had tricked them into thinking we were going to Denver and then left a half-day earlier then they were expecting. But, while rushing from line to line and spending a few minutes on the rides are all fond memories, I think I will most remember something I saw Charissa, our 7-year-old, do.
It was while we were in California Adventure waiting for the Grizzly Rapids ride. Jenna and Hayden, who couldn’t ride because they were too pregnant and too short respectively, were off having fun elsewhere while I waited in the interminable line with the other three.
The ride is one of those rafting rides that takes you through simulated rapids and waterfalls. It is a lot of fun, but what I will remember most happened long before we ever boarded the raft.
One part of the line crosses a bridge that overlooks the tail-end of the rapids trail. Previous rafters float under the bridge on their way to the unloading station.
As we were paused indefinitely on the bridge, I was watching Joey and Miranda goof around, then realized Chissa had fallen a bit behind. I looked back and found her standing on her tiptoes looking down at the rafts passing under the bridge. As each raft passed underneath, she grinned her biggest grin and waved at them. The interesting part was that, whenever someone in the rafts noticed her, their faces, which were already happy (I mean, they were in the “Happiest Place on Earth”), lit up.
It suddenly took me back to the day, several years earlier, when Chissa, then 1-year-old, caught her finger in a van door and we had to rush to the hospital. The tip of her finger was all but severed and, as you can imagine, she cried a lot. But, as hour after hour passed in the emergency room and we still waited for a doctor, her tears dried and she started wandering about, looking at the many different kinds of people there.
It was fascinating to watch her as she walked from person to person, just wearing her diaper and with her arm bandaged all the way to the shoulder. She would pause at each person, lean over, wave to them, and smile. Immediately, the faces of those she observed—even the handcuffed guy standing in front of two imposing police officers—lit up as they waved back at this little girl with a bandaged arm.
I’ve often thought about that moment, and every time I have, I marveled at the amount of joy that one little child brought to one of the most depressing places anyone can ever visit. I often wonder at how she was able to put aside her own pain and take the time to notice people—to smile at them and make their lives a bit more bearable.
It makes me wonder, how much better would life be if we all followed Chissa’s example and really noticed those around us and took the time to do something as simple as smile and wave to them. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough to change the world. But perhaps it would be. Isn’t it worth a try?

