Chicken Little and Me

Early this morning, I took Captain Midnight Sugar Dot Express for a walk.  For seemingly the first time this summer, I was able to stare at the stars.  The moon was hiding behind clouds, which were illuminated in a magical, movie-style fashion.  I kept looking at the moon and appreciating it and thinking.  I walked an extra block so I could keep facing it.  Then I had to turn and I was so disappointed I had to stop my moon-gazing. I considered walking backward but knew I would trip and fall.  Reluctantly, I turned.
When I turned I realized that the sky had been lightening when I wasn't looking and there had been a beautiful sunrise at my back.  I didn't see it at first because my eyes were focused on a small part of the sky instead of the sky's beauty as a whole.
In Chicken Little, a popular children's story, Chicken Little gets hit on the head when a squirrel drops an acorn.  He couldn't see the source of the acorn so he believed that the sky was falling.  It was just a little acorn, but since Chicken Little couldn't see the whole picture, he assumed the whole picture was that the sky was falling.
Everyone has brief bouts of Chicken Little-ness in life.  Whenever my world seems small the acorns are magnified.  Once I see the whole picture, though, everything shrinks to its normal perspective. I just have to remember to look at the whole sky and not just what's directly in front of me.