Sometimes I feel like we are bombarded with messages that sell us happiness with a price tag, like a brand-new car, a beach vacation, a house with a garden and a pool, as if that were the mandatory passport to truly smile.
Now, it is true that I don’t have a pool at home, nor luxuries, and my close relatives live the same way: with just enough, but with something money can’t buy.
This weekend something happened that reminded me of what truly matters. I took my daughter to my aunt’s house. There’s nothing fancy there, but there is something better: a backyard where imagination still fits, and my nephews, her little cousins, were waiting for her with a small inflatable pool that my aunt set up almost as if she were improvising a treasure.
It wasn’t huge, it didn’t have waterfalls or colored lights. It was one of those thin plastic ones that deflate if you’re not careful, but for them it was the biggest ocean in the world. There I saw them laugh, splash, wet their faces without fear, fight over a floating toy, and make peace within two seconds.
My daughter looked at her cousins as if she needed nothing else. And I, sitting on a chair drinking a beer my aunt offered me because the heat on this island keeps rising, understood something I already knew but that the noise of daily life makes me forget: no luxury was needed.
There were no giant screens, no designer clothes, no perfectly decorated house. Just them, the water, the sun slowly setting, and those laughs that sneak into your chest and fill everything up.
There I understood the real value of family. It’s not about having the means to give them the most expensive things; it’s about being there and watching them whisper secrets to each other, share a wet cookie without caring that it’s a little soggy, hug each other without anyone having taught them a pose for the photo.
That little inflatable pool gave me more peace than any luxury I could buy, because my daughter’s happiness didn’t depend on the size of the pool, but on who was inside it with her. And I, who sometimes worry about what I can’t give her, went home with a peaceful heart because I felt we lacked nothing, and that moment, as simple as it was, was enough. What is essential is having someone by your side who looks at you and smiles, even if the pool is inflatable and the backyard is small.
⛲
🩵 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! 🩵
𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒕, 𝑰’𝒎 𝒂 𝑪𝒖𝒃𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐’𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝑯𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒂𝒓.
𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 100% 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏-𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 (𝒏𝒐 𝑨𝑰).
𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝑳𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒊.
𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕? 𝑼𝒑𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒚! 💙
