I spy joy in a bejeweled pink cast

Bejeweled heart cast

While getting my son’s arm in a more permanent cast than the ER version that allowed for tissue swelling, we saw all kinds of broken limbs move in and out of the casting room. We saw purple casts and pink casts and orange casts. And then we saw this one. Pink with purple hearts and accented with bling.  I almost fell out of my chair rushing over to look at it.

“I had to do pink and purple for her,” said the woman pointing to her 9-ish-year-old daughter. I oohed and ahhed and gasped when I saw the purple hearts were not painted on, but were actually made of plaster. “They weren’t this busy when I came in here the first time,” she said.

I told her how much I loved it, and how joyful I thought it was. She didn’t mind a bit when I asked to take a photo of the happy artwork that was helping her leg heal.

How absolutely wonderful.

I have no idea how she broke her leg, I never asked her. And she never hinted at how it most likely was making it difficult to keep up with two young children under the age of 10. We just reveled in the beauty she created out of what I’m sure caused a great deal of pain.

No rain, no rainbows. No broken bones, no bejeweled pink and purple heart casts.

Life is good.  All of it. If we let it be.