Writers, poets, and all of the sort seem to spend large quantities of time talking about the "little things." True, this is a generalization, and true, many, if not most, try tackling a big question, such as "what is love?" or "why are we alive," but regardless, it's with the "little things" they try to define this.
Allow me to define "little things" so I can stop putting them randomly in the sentence leaving your wondering eyes to stare at the two words in unfriendly quotes. They are the simple things in life. Perhaps a poet will devote a whole poem to a rose, or an author talk for numerous pages about the grassy knoll she so dearly loves. Yet, I am convinced, that it is through these little things that we come to the big things in life. Or, maybe, the little things aren't really so little.
Take for example friendship. To be best friends with someone is one thing, to share the binding words, and refer to one another casually as his/her best friend is standard, but it's not really this that bring so much joy. The joy comes in the friendship. The moments you spend laughing over ridiculous things, when they always return your calls, or the way they are there to eat breakfast with you every morning. It's nice to have this. So nice, in fact, that maybe returning a call or sharing a meal isn't so little. To me, these things are vital, and big.
Perhaps this is why I am so fond of the, to what some call, simple things in life. They happen to be the things that allow me to understand and begin to grasp the truly big things; they are the building blocks to something truly divine.
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