One summer our family was at the Garden of Versailles near Paris. It was the summer of my sabbatical. We stayed in the Lauterbrunnen Valley in Switzerland arguably the most beautiful place in Europe. It is thought to have inspired Tolkien’s Rivendell.
The day we were at Versailles was hot. We were on our feet through a palace tour and a little worn out thinking about the unfortunate ending for Marie Antoinette. While we were taking our break in the shade a family from Spain was nearby. They had a daughter who was about three years old. And as we sat their in the shade of Versailles it was obvious to me that there was nothing in the palace, or anywhere in the Swiss Alps, close to being as beautiful as that one little girl. She had dark hair, dark eyes, and her mother had obviously taken care to make sure she looked like a princess for her trip to the castle. The little girl was stunningly lovely.
We didn’t talk with the family. Unless their English was far better than my Spanish it would have been difficult. They were there a couple of minutes and moved on. Moments before, I had walked through the Hall of Mirrors and I assure you the little girl was prettier. It wasn’t even close.
My point is not that the little Spanish girl, in particular, was the most beautiful little girl in the world. Rather, children, in general, are the most beautiful part of God’s creation.