. .. .

Our entire lives are spent learning how to love, care and share.
Animals are born with these instincts, so they don't need to stay as long...








One of these days we'll shout, "Why don't you kids grow up and act your age"... And they will...
Or, "You kids get outside and find something to do. Please don't slam the door again"... And they won't...
We'll help tidy their bedrooms, papers discarded, beds made tidy, toys put away, hangers back in the closet, stuffed animals placed neatly and then say, "Now I want it to stay this way"... And it will...
We'll prepare a perfect dinner with salad that hasn't been picked at, cake with no finger traces in the icing and say, "Now here's a meal fit for company"... Then we'll eat it alone... We'll say, "I want quiet while on the phone... No dancing around, pantomimes or demolition derbies... Just Silence! Do you hear me"...
And we'll have it...
No more tableclothes stained with spaghetti, protecting the sofa from damp bottoms, playpens, stumbling over safety gates or toys scattered through the house... No more anxious nights under vaporizer tents, sloppy oatmeal kisses, sandy sheets, comics or wet towels on the bathroom floor, knotted shoestrings, pony tails, tooth fairy, giggles in the dark or boo boos to kiss... No more Christmas presents of toothpicks or popsicle sticks held together with glue, baby sitters, P.T.A. meetings, car pools, school sports practices and games, busy phones and bathrooms or blaring radios... We'll be washing clothes once a week, cooking steak that isn't ground up, having our teeth cleaned without a baby on our lap, having leisurely strolls through the grocery that end without surprises at the check out, finally discovering ourselves with NO responsibility...
But now there's just a distant voice echoing, "Why don't you grow up," followed by a deafening silence shouting back...

"WE DID"!!!

When the kids were about 2, they wanted a sandbox. We broke down and bought them one but figured we'd probably have kids over every day and they'd tromp around throwng sand into the grass and flower beds. The cats would all flock over, digging up our yard and turning it into a litterbox. We hoped the yard would survive.

At around 5, they wanted a jungle gym set with swings that would take their breath away and bars to climb to the summit. We worried that our back yard would soon look like mud holes in a pasture as kids dug their gym shoes into the ground killing the grass.

Between breaths, while blowing up the plastic swimming pool again, we feared that our place would be condemned and used for a missile site. Water seemed to be tracked everywhere from water fights and we trodded through mud while taking out the trash. We figured we had the brownest lawn on the entire block."

As they approached their teens, our yard was volunteered for a campout. Tents popped up as spikes were driven in, while we stood at the window wondering if those tents and all those feet were going to trample every scarce blade of grass, doubting that it would ever come back.

Just when it looked as if some newly sprouted seed might take root, winter came with sled runners beating the ground into ridges. The kids' basketball hoop on the side of the garage attracted more pounding sneakers than the Olympics. It was becoming obvious that our dreams of having a decent looking lawn were short lived.

But a small patch of lawn under that hoop that started out with a barren spot the size of a garbage can lid has now grown to encompass the whole side yard. The entire lawn rolls out like a lush green carpet now. Along the drive where gym shoes used to trod, along the garage where bicycles used to fall and around the flower beds where little ones used to dig with iced-tea spoons.

But somehow grass doesn't seem important now. Actually, we hardly notice it as we anxiously look beyond our lush, beautiful yard asking each other, with a catch in our voices,
"THEY WILL COME BACK, WON'T THEY?"

( ~ Borrowed from Erma Bombeck ~ )








What if we found an large bird egg and put it into the nest of a barnyard hen. This egg hatches along with the brood of chicks and our bird grows up with them, thinking he's just a very large chicken. Of course he does whatever the chicks do, scratching the earth for worms and insects, clucking, cackling and occasionally thrashing his wings to fly just a few feet into the air.

As our bird is maturing, he spots a magnificent bird high above him gliding in graceful majesty among powerful wind currents, with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. Our puzzled bird looks up in wonderment and awe, as the chickens explain that this bird is the mighty Eagle who's king of all birds, truly belonging to the sky while chickens belong to the earth. What if OUR magnificent Eagle lives and dies believing that he's a chicken?!?!







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