Every so often I get a glimpse of perfection. Tonight I was busy in the kitchen making dinner and I realized that I hadn’t heard any noises from my children in quite awhile. When I finally found them, they were snuggled like this on the chair. Emma was reading (singing actually) to Mary who was enthralled with her older sister’s attention. It was too good to be true. If only these delicate moments occured more often– but then perhaps they wouldn’t be quite so precious.
I feel like it has been quite awhile since I posted pictures and that there is much to write about. Last week marked the third anniversary of the loss of my husband’s father and brother. They passed away in a car accident in 2002. Since then it has been a tradition for all of Dan’s family to spend that day together, including a trip to the local pumpkin farm. Emma always marks the beginning of fall by the trip to the pumpkin farm. And we do it up while we’re there—pony rides, hay rides, pumpkins and gourds for all.
I enjoy watching my children enjoy their time at the pumpkin farm, but there is always this tinge of remorse when I am there. I hate that I have to drive somewhere and pay money for my children to experience the things that were every day occurences for me when I was growing up. I hate paying two dollars for emma to sit on a pony that walks in a small circle inside a barn for three minutes. I hate paying fifty cents for a dixie cup filled with grain to feed a menagerie of goats and sheep. I hate paying six dollars for a bright orange pumpkin from someone else’s garden. But, this is life for now. And maybe someday God will bless our family with the opportunity to experience all of these things as a part of our everyday life. In the meantime, I’ll turn over my dollars in exchange for experience and entertainment and hopeully help another farmer protect his opportunity.