Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
… here are some reasons you continue to steal my heart.
First, this smile. It’s there when you wake up in the morning and is a constant reminder of the joy you have for life. You have an energy and a zest for living that I hope does not disappear when you get older and more “seasoned” by life. You inspire me and give me purpose.
Second, your prayers. You are 2 years old and you already know how to pray. When our friend prayed for the meal tonight, you bowed your head, folded your hands and sat quietly. One of the best parts of my day is hearing you say, “Dear Jesus, for my mommy, for my daddy, for my Corban. Amen.” And hearing you add in other people and things to your prayers. Keep praying, my daughter. It will be your lifeline.
Third, your imagination. As we walked home tonight, you stopped every few minutes and said, “Let’s take a picture.” You pulled out the worn-out camera Nana gave you and snapped a “smile” every chance you got. Will you be a photographer? I do not know. I love watching you play with your babies as though they were real. How you feed them, diaper them, offer them your snacks and entertain them. How the space between our front door and the door that leads to our attic can become an elevator to anywhere. And the other day out of nowhere you decided to show us the chicken dance.
Fourth, your creativity. You’ve loved to draw and color for a while now, but your pictures are becoming more than just scribbles. You love circles and drawing them over and over and over again. When you pull out your fingerpaints, we’re never sure what the outcome will be, but we’re as proud of what you created as if it were hanging in an art gallery. Jackson Pollock, watch out. And you are the best snake maker in the Playdough genre that I’ve ever seen.
Fifth, your negotiating abilities. “Just one more,” you say sweetly when you’ve finished your umpteenth episode of Dora. And even if I wanted to resist, I couldn’t. Between your smile and tone, I give in. I’m convinced you could win any case brought against your client, if you choose to be a lawyer. This could serve you well in life, but I’m almost certain you’ll outgrow it.
Sixth, your recall. As you were playing your memory game yesterday, you started saying, “Dos. Cinco. Dos. Cinco” as you placed the pieces on the table. This is the result of too much Dora and nowhere near the correct order of counting in Spanish, but I’m tickled nonetheless. Also, you know that the Spanish for open is “abre” and that if you really want me to follow you to another room, “Come on, vamanos,” gets me every time.
Seventh, your personality. You’ve started waving at strangers. Sometimes they wave back. Usually they smile. Your mother has a hard time initiating conversations or even contact with strangers, but you are young enough and have enough of your father’s genes that you make friends easily already and are quick to offer a wave or a “hi.” I can learn so much from you.
Eighth, your curiosity. “What’s that, Mama?” is a favorite question right now. And you really are interested. Daddy was telling you about his class tonight and when he said it was about the triune God, you repeated, “The try-oon God?” and he explained about Jesus, the Father and the Holy Spirit. That may be a bit over your head at this point, but keep asking questions. You’ll learn something new all the time.
Ninth, your innocence. You don’t yet know that it’s not OK to look out the front picture window when you’re not wearing clothes or a diaper. We constantly have to tell you to get away from the window until your jammies are on. I don’t think this means you’ll be an exhibitionist. It’s like Adam and Eve, before the Fall. Naked and unashamed. You don’t yet feel weird about the way you look, with or without clothes on. You don’t know that bad things happen for no reason you can explain or that loving too much can sometimes hurt you. Your world is safe. I wish I trusted God as much as you trust your mommy and daddy. I’m working on that.
And lastly, although I’m not sure there’s really an end to the things that I love, I love that God put you in our lives. Your father and I have not known many married days without you, and although your birth changed everything for us, we can’t imagine our lives any differently or remember what they were like before you came along. We haven’t scratched the surface of the things you’ll teach us, but you’ve grown us in ways we couldn’t have imagined. We are better people for having you in our lives. You are only 2, and it’s been an adventure with so much more to come.
Isabelle, you are a gift. If you should ever read this, try not to roll your eyes too much. Mommy is foolishly sentimental sometimes.
Thursday. Our last day of “summer.” Phil’s classes started that night, so we took advantage of the half-price ticket deal we got from Groupon.com and went to Longwood Gardens (www.longwoodgardens.org), which we’ve dubbed the Biltmore of Pennsylvania. The house is no comparison, but the gardens are exquisite. The house dates back to the 1700s and the property was developed in the early 1900s by Pierre duPont (yes, THOSE duPonts!).
Our pediatrician recommended the gardens to us, so when the deal came along, we couldn’t pass it up.
We started our day in the conservatory (pictured above) because there’s a children’s garden within it. The sort of place kids are encouraged to touch things, get wet and run around. Perfect for our little girl, who was confined to the car for an hour and a half.
She could have stayed in the children’s garden all day.
Even her baby brother sort of got into it.
There are lots of water activities here, and Isabelle availed herself of all them: wetting a paintbrush to “paint” a picture on the wall; watching water “jump” across a wall; chasing water as it appeared and disappeared through a series of faucets. She drummed and shook a rattle made with seed pods. And played an insect matching game with one of the friendly docents.
We heard this a lot: “Oh, look at that.”
After she’d had her fill of the children’s garden (or maybe I should say, after we moved her along so we could see some of the other areas of the garden), we took in the rest of the conservatory. We marveled at the outdoor waterlily display and the palm house, with palm trees that seemed as tall as buildings. Then for perspective, we viewed the bonsai exhibit.
Not sure why, but this was one of my favorite parts of the day. These beautifully manicured, old, tiny trees fascinate me. Surely if I had one, I would kill it, though.
The Gardens’ current focus is on fragrance, so we browsed the perfume-making exhibit. We even got to create our own fragrance. Isabelle chose the ingredients: lemon, jasmine and vanilla, I think. The machine said it was similar to a Calvin Klein fragrance on the market. She has good, if expensive, taste, I guess.
Roses, bananas and orchids were just a few of the rest of the plants and flowers we saw in the conservatory.
After a short break for lunch (we packed a picnic that we ate in the car so as not to lose what Phil said was “a really good parking spot”) we headed toward the Peirce-duPont House. It was built by a Quaker pioneer and added on to by duPont. Mostly, it contains pictures and essays about the development of Longwood. A few furnishings, including a miniature dining room display that was one of many miniature displays in the home’s library. Mrs. duPont was a fan, apparently.
Next came treehouses. The gardens boast three. The Birdhouse was the tallest of the three, and Isabelle and her daddy climbed to the top. Lookout Loft was less high but more accessible to the stroller. Plus, there was a honeycomb display with hundreds of bees flying in and out of it. (I might add, at this point, that the camera battery died before lunch, thus the lack of afternoon pictures. Sigh.) We tried to locate the queen, who was marked with a neon dot but we were unsuccessful.
If the bonsais were my favorite part of the conservatory, then the Italian Water Garden was the highlight of the rest of the Gardens. Reminded me of the gardens at Harlaxton. I could have looked on it for the rest of the day and been content. Stunning. I had to buy a postcard to capture the memory.
The final treehouse was called Canopy Cathedral. Corban was napping by this time, so I took Isabelle to the top of this one. I never had a treehouse as a child, but the idea of a personal retreat in the trees captivates me. I felt like a kid as we climbed the stairs and looked out on the Gardens from a cathedral-like window.
As we walked on toward the flower gardens, we thirsted, or as Isabelle said, “I’m really drinky.” Abundant drinking fountains were a gift, though the weather was mild and pleasant, not too hot. We passed the topiary garden and its fun-shaped shrubs and the main fountain garden on our way to the idea garden, with more children-themed activities. Isabelle immediately spotted another fountain at her level and she splashed in the water next to other tots her size. Water periodically shot up from the fountain and Isabelle quickly learned if she put a finger over the spout, she could direct the water to spray her face and the adults standing nearby. She did this many times without tiring.
She and her daddy also explored an outdoor children’s garden shaped like a honeycomb. She ran around in the maze, sat in a queen-bee chair and lounged in a kid-size Adirondack chair.
We pulled her away from the fountain once more to check out Chimes Tower, which looks like the tower of a castle and appropriately, contains the chimes that sound the hour and partial hours throughout the garden. Near the tower is a waterfall — amazing — and something named the eye of water, which called to mind magical sorts of things like eye of newt for me. In reality it looks like its name — an eye of water that pumps thousands of gallons of water into the Gardens every day.
Phil and Isabelle wandered through the topiary garden on our way out, and we stopped to buy postcards at the visitor center, but we had to call it a day.
Sore feet and legs, tired babies, and little bit of sun — a wonderful end to our carefree days of summer.