Do not despise the little things that make up life. Yes, they are insignificant, ordinary, simple. But life consists precisely of them. And in their simplicity and everyday life – their need and greatness. To the child everything is new. He is happy with the morning sun and a cake for tea, he is attracted by the mystery of the far corner of the garden, and the pattern on the wallpaper offers him a thousand new patterns.
Gradually, with age, the novelty is lost, pales. Boredom remains. Only a few are given the gift of seeing the miraculous in the most ordinary. How to look at the usual for this? Perhaps, screwing up my eyes? Mary Cassatt did not leave a prescription. She left only the pictures, imbued with the very feeling of the uniqueness and uniqueness of each moment, which is so valuable to us – memorable for boredom, forgetful and insatiable for joy.