I don’t know who she’s looking at, but I do know that person is loved. 

I used to enjoy going to the airport. That may sound crazy. It was so long ago, I can hardly believe it myself. There was a humanity at the gate. (Days when people could actually meet you at the gate.) Even when they weren’t waiting for me, it was nice to see it – the proof in the welcoming. How the faces changed when they caught the first glimpse of the ones they loved (and you had to love someone to do the airport run, it was still the airport after all.) It was the softest excitement. The pure energy of an embrace. A joyful safety that sounded in the unrung bells of “I’m so happy you’re here.”

We can still do that you know. Not at the airport, but in the car. Across the table. On sidewalks and shopping centers. In the mirror. At all of our gates — gates of joy and sorrow, fear and hope. To welcome each other with a joyful ease. We all want that, don’t we? 

So I ask myself, is this what I want written across my face? Is this the first thing I want people to see of me? Each moment is a choice. A new gate. Let me greet it with care. The sun is coming up. I smile to the world…and myself…and say, “you’re here.”