I was sitting in the library this morning working intently on a paper when I heard rather loud footsteps coming up behind me. Not loud, actually—more like…clompy footsteps. Like a very small elephant or a very large alligator.

It broke my concentration enough that I looked up from my laptop to see what or who was passing by, and when I did so, I found myself looking straight into the sparkling blue eyes of a completely adorable little man with Downs syndrome.

He paused for a minute, looking me up and down quizzically, and then a smile like the rising of the sun lit up his whole face.

Oh my goodness. I wanted to just grab him up and give him a very big bear hug, but I realized that this probably would have somewhat shocked and frightened the very prim-and-proper looking matron who appeared to be acting the part of caretaker.

So I simply smiled a very big smile, and winked at the little man, which elicited a joyful little chuckle that was the most hilarious thing I’ve heard all day, and he was off on his merry way.

And I was left to ponder the incredible beauty of innocent, childlike emotion freely and trustingly expressed—ah, it gets me every time.