How lovely it is.

Do you remember when you were little and the counters and cupboards in your kitchen were super high-up? The larger rooms in your house felt cavernous and the chairs and couches were massive. I do remember that; I remember having to haul myself up onto couches and adult-sized kitchen chairs. Such effort, just to be able to sit at the table and feel like a big kid. 

It's all about perspective. And the reality is that the perspective of a child is just so different from that of a full-grown person, no matter where that child stands or sits. They're always looking up, always eye-level (or just about) with the table top, always hanging from the countertop or doorknob by their fingertips.

Growth happens slowly and the perspective changes. I recall stopping one day when I was around ten and realizing that what once seemed huge or out of reach was now just normal-sized. I was glad I was bigger; glad I didn't have to stretch to reach, or climb to sit, or crane my neck to see. But when I was even older, I realized that I was a little sad that I would never be that little again. I would never again fit into the lower cupboards in my kitchen. I would never again stand on one end of a couch and feel like a gymnast's tumbling mat was laid out before me. I would never again be lifted into someone's arms to see the whole other world that was the tops of counters and tables.

There is a poignant sacrifice in growing bigger. We want it so badly because we have no idea how lovely it is to be small.