Small Pleasures

I stopped for ice cream at our local ice cream shop a few days ago.  There was a line, and I chatted with friends as I waited my turn, enjoying watching several kids studying the front of the display case.  It was serious business, choosing a flavor and deciding between cup or cone and what kind of cone.  Wouldn’t it be great if that were the most serious decision kids had to make these days?  Wouldn’t it be great if that were the most serious decision any of us had to make?

I ordered my ice cream, paid my ticket and left the shop, heading for my truck.  As I walked down the street, licking drips to keep them from running down to my hand, I thought about how many times over the years people have walked down the street savoring the cold sweetness.  It’s one thing that hasn’t changed at all.  A small pleasure.

One of the best afternoons I ever spent was during an intense week-long horse show.  It had been a grueling 3 or 4 days in early August and I had a free afternoon with no classes that night.  I was staying with relatives in their upstairs bedroom and it was raining, a gentle summer shower that sometimes graces us during that time of year.  I lay across the bed, content in the knowledge that I didn’t have to hurry back to the show grounds.  I could not have moved if I had to – it was one of the most peaceful, restful afternoons I have ever enjoyed.  Lying across a bed listening to the rain with no place to go and no time to be there.  A small pleasure.

I remember hot afternoons floating down a meandering creek on a large inner tube, watching the patterns of sunlight through the trees, trailing my hands in the icy water and thinking about nothing in particular.  A simple pleasure and a feeling of contentment I wished would never end. 

I once watched two small boys poke a long stick at a bonfire for 30 minutes. My friend, who was also watching, looked at me and said, “Give a boy a stick.”  Simple pleasures.  I have no idea if they still remember that night and that bonfire and that stick.  But I do.

The first bite of a fresh tomato, from a garden you have tended.  Or the first corn on the cob, picked from the garden, shucked right there and rushed inside to a boiling pot of water.  A small pleasure that make the planting and hoeing worth every drop of sweat and every bug bite.

I remember a lunch break in the mountains, sitting with a sandwich on a rock beside a rushing stream, listening to the water and the birds.  Not in a fancy restaurant, and I have no memory of what kind of sandwich or whether the bread was fresh or the filling tasty.  But it was one of the best lunches I can ever remember.  A small pleasure. 

I have enjoyed laughter and love around a table so many times in my life, first with family and later with good friends who make even a quick lunch break special.  Even better are the long leisurely meals when time is limitless and the conversation makes even the most mediocre food taste like manna.  Late night after-horse-show meals are better than the ribbons we won during the show and help cement old friendships and make new ones.  There is just something about talking things over around a table of food.  One of my favorite songs is Crowded Tables, a song that captures my feelings perfectly, feelings about bringing us together when the day is done.  Simple pleasures.

There are simple words that can warm the heart, or in some cases, set a fire going in a heart.  A teacher says to a child, “You are a writer,” or “You are a real artist.”  And a dream is born.  Not just a small pleasure, but a small declaration that can change a life.  I try to remember how those words have changed my life so I can use them myself – children need to hear them.  Not to puff up an ego, but as an affirmation of who and what they are.

I have heard some great speeches and some inspiring sermons.  But more times than not, it’s been the smallest phrases or simplest words within those discourses that have touched me and stayed in my heart.  Simple words – simple pleasures.  The great songwriters – John Prine, Kristofferson, Dylan, Willie, Leonard Cohen – they understand the importance of simple words.

When all is said and done, there are great things in life, big events that impress and bring joy.  But I think it is the simple things that can, if not erase, at least hide in the back of your mind a hard day or an unpleasant job.  I think I will call the dogs, make an ice cream cone and sit on the porch now.  I feel the need for some small pleasures.