beauty in the eyes of a baby

Recently, I was on the Great Lawn with a group of friends who were playing ultimate frisbee but did not join the game because I had to work on a paper.  Because I was on the sidelines already, I was assigned the duty of sitting with my friends’ baby and making sure she was ok and not upset while her mom played. To be honest, I’m really not a baby person. I can enjoy them for a minute or two, but as soon as they start crying and need attention, or somehow become a total mess and covered in who knows what, as well as their own saliva, I’m out. I really don’t even think most babies are that cute.
    My friends’ baby, however, is an acception. While I’d likely still run if she was a mess, she is undeniably a beautiful baby. Her face is not so chubby that it causes her features to get lost beneath it all, as seems to happen with most babies. Her distinct but gentle features are accompanied by thick dark hair that beautifully contrasts her deep, blue eyes.

I have admired her eyes on multiple occasions, but when I looked over at her during the game to make sure she was ok, they were even more striking than I remembered. Puzzled by this, I looked a little more closely and saw in her eyes the reflection of what she was seeing. The sun was totally out and the sky was so blue. Light seemed to be dancing all around us, offering slight warmth on my skin, a last kiss farewell of the fair autumn weather. In her eyes was the reflection of the beautiful, clear sky blue and the green of the Great Lawn. She is remarkably good at focusing for one so young (as even her doctors have noted), and I watched her eyes as her focus shifted from player to player, or to the frisbee as the game went on.

    I found myself wondering about what exactly she was focusing in on, and what she thought about what she saw. I marveled that such a clear reflection in her large blue eyes was one of the most unexpectedly beautiful  and unscripted things I’d ever seen. I began to inquire of myself what it was about this circumstance that I found so beautiful. Was it the clear, bright colors that were being reflected in her eyes? I think the answer to that is yes, partly. Would it have been as beautiful if it were reflected in the eyes of another baby, or even one of my peers? Actually I think I’d say no, although I cannot provide myself with reason to justify that answer. Is the beauty found in the mystery of what she sees and her thoughts? Surely I cannot simply ask her, “Anya, what are you focusing on? What do you see? What are you thinking?” I think the mystery and innocence that her big, beautiful eyes possess very likely contributed to the surprising beauty of the moment. Whatever it was, the beauty was striking and held me captive for a few moments in its firm and curious grip.