She is a daisy found in the middle of a blizzard. She is the five dollars you found laying in the road. She is the surprise birthday party thrown for you after you were convinced everyone forgot. She is every unexpected, wondrous joy you've been blessed enough to receive in life. She is watching a child blow bubbles. She is listening to a baby's heartbeat for the very first time. She is a teenagers first nervous, shaky kiss that they never forget. She is everything beautiful and holy. She is the rain pattering down on your rooftop on lazy Sunday mornings. She is meeting someone who teaches you how to love your flaws. She is old home movies, filmed before your parents divorce, when everything was still innocent and the world hadn't yet touched you. She is the comfort of returning home after years of being lost inside your own head.