I paused in my daily routine, in fact mid-sentence, because the world slowed and stopped so that I could observe joy, innocence and beauty.

The littlest girl (perhaps two and a half, but tiny) was walking the littlest puppy (could not have been more than a couple of weeks old). She was walking the puppy in earnest, but carefully. There was no frustration, no difficulty, just attentiveness.
The puppy's scampering was matched by the girl's care. But still, we're clumsy when we're tiny. She couldn't help but get the leash caught underneath the pup's front, right leg. But rather than jerk at the leash, she carefully slowed down and kept trying, very gently, to release it. She wasn't going to trip the puppy. It couldn't happen. And between fortuitous leaps, she managed to get it free. And like that, these little balls of energy bounded off--swiftly on their scale, but thanks to their little legs, slowly enough to catch and hold our attention and remind us of everything good. Mama was oblivious to this moment, though she has certainly had more precious ones, and called for them to catch up. And that they did. As they turned the corner, I blinked. I took a sip from my mug and walked back inside.

I should have mentioned that the sun was shining.