Cold weather makes for lonelier walking paths and on our latest foray into the woods, on the first weekend of Advent, I let the boys get ahead of me on the trail. Autumn is now almost gone. The bare branches of the trees and the quiet trails work together to calm my soul.

Simple beauty opens my heart and I am glad to be alone to indulge my mournful thoughts.

I told my sister this week that if I were back at home, I would be complaining about having to unpack the Christmas boxes, but here far away in Scotland, I can nourish the longing to unwrap the familiar ornaments from tissue, resurrecting Christmas memories with every object. I can hold even the mundane traditions as holy and sacred when I am only imagining them.

And then I am remembering how a year ago I was holding my grandmother’s hand and singing softly into her ears on her last days, words to her favorite hymns as I watched Jesus call her home. I sing a verse or two of one of those hymns while I walk in the woods and I wring my hands a bit for how they still miss the feel of hers.

My children have become obsessed this fall with a television show about Merlin and King Arthur, and these woods remind me of the scenes where the knights head off into the hills surrounding Camelot. In fact, they were probably filmed somewhere in Scotland. A particular scene from this show comes back to me over and over, and I have not been sure why. Whenever Merlin’s mind is troubled, he seeks out his dragon, who gives him advice and helps him process events.

On one night in the woods, Merlin’s heart is heavy because he is on a quest where he intends to give his life for King Arthur as a ransom to some kind of evil sorcery. He sneaks off from the camp to find his dragon and tell him his plans. They both agree that saving the king is worth any sacrifice. Then, in parting, the dragon leans down to Merlin and says with solemnity,

It will be an empty world without you, young warlock.

In all honesty, I find the show to be rather silly, and somewhat repetitive. The plot line is the same in every episode. An evil sorcerer or sorceress creates some kind of trouble for the king and Merlin helps the king to defeat it. But for some reason, when the dragon said these words to Merlin, something caught in my heart and I think I audibly moaned. Since then I have remembered them again and again, these words that a dragon said to his friend when he knew he was headed to his death. Of course Merlin did not end up having to die, and of course we knew that he would not since the name of the show is Merlin. But, at that moment both Merlin and the dragon believed that death was near.

In the woods, the picture of the dragon bent low to the young magician came back to me and I realized why I connected so deeply with their conversation. I spoke many similar words to my grandmother last year when she was reaching the end of her life. In October, she knew her time was near and she was so very brave. Though she was never physically a strong woman, she was facing death with all the dignity and courage of a great warrior. And on the days when she would tell me that she was ready, I would say to her that I was not. “I cannot imagine the world without you, Grandmother. I do not want to live in a world where you are not.” She would smile and remind me that there was still so much for me to do in this world.

It is funny to me that a show my Grandmother would never have enjoyed, with its silly fantasy worlds and strange magic, has brought back to me some of the moments I shared with her last year. But then, I am not surprised, because though she feels much further away to me now than she did on this day of her death a year ago, her fully lived life still has so much bearing on my world. And these words, which C.S. Lewis wrote about his beloved, still ring true for me about Grandmother,

Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.

Everything.

Even a sweet moment between a boy and his dragon.

I do not want you to think I say this without hope or joy in this life. I am still living and being and doing and trusting with all of the energy a forty year old woman who still wants to be like Jesus can muster. I long to live fully and honor the legacy of faith that my grandmother left for me.

But when I am quiet but for the crunch of the leaves under my feet or inside an old empty church. When it is Christmas and I will not hear her voice singing Silent Night, slightly off key. This is just true:

It is an empty world without you Grandmother.

The post A Boy and His Dragon or A Girl and Her Grandmother. appeared first on Alison Chino.

In memory of her, I wanted to share this fun story I wrote about her 20 years ago.

She had just remarried her high school sweetheart after being reunited with him at her 50th high school reunion. She had been a widow for 16 years, so it was a big change for all of us. I wrote a children’s story about the wedding from the perspective of my cousin who was around 10 at the time. Obviously, I projected a lot of my own feelings about my Grandmother’s wedding onto my cousin. I was in college at the time, and with my Grandmother and George having so recently been married, it just seemed like the safest way to tell the story.

Grandmother’s Wedding

Today I am going to light the candles at my Grandmother’s wedding. When I told my friends that my grandmother was getting married, they were surprised.

“My grandma is already married. To my grandpa!’ That’s what Suzy said.

Mandy said, “My grandma is dead.”

‘Well, mine is getting married,’ I told them.

My real grandfather is dead. He died before I was born, and that is a long time ago. Now Grandmother is getting married all over again to a man named George who has a funny name that I can’t say or spell. George is short, and he doesn’t have much hair, but that is okay because he jokes about it. His jokes aren’t funny, but that is okay too because Grandmother always laughs at them anyway.

I met George last summer. Grandmother invited all of us over to meet him. I teased Grandmother about having a boyfriend. It is funny for an old lady like my grandmother to have a boyfriend. I don’t remember much about the night I met George, except that my grandmother looked beautiful. My grandmother is pretty anyway. She thinks you have to be young to be pretty, but she’s wrong. Grandmother doesn’t like to be wrong very much, but she’s wrong about that for sure. I know she’s wrong because she is old and she is beautiful, and that night that I met George, she looked more beautiful than ever. She laughed over and over again, and she hardly ever took her eyes off of George. I could tell he liked her a lot, and I didn’t blame him because she’s a lovely lady, especially that night because she couldn’t stop smiling. When Grandmother smiles, her eyes get twinkles in them like they know a secret. You can’t believe how pretty my grandmother’s eyes are. I like the way they go with her gray curls.

Last August, I knew for certain that Grandmother was dead gone on George. She was worse than my cousin and her boyfriend. My cousin cries every time her boyfriend goes anywhere. My mom says it’s because they are always breaking up and getting back together, but I think she just cries too much. Daddy says they are just teenagers. That’s what I would say about Grandmother and George if I didn’t know any better, they are just teenagers.

But I knew for sure that Grandmother was gone on George last August at Uncle Craig’s birthday party, and this is how I knew. When we were singing the part that goes, “Happy Birthday, Dear Craig,” my grandmother sang, “Happy Birthday, Dear George!” She never even noticed her mistake, but we all did because my grandmother sings loud. I laughed inside.

Now they are getting married, and I am going to light the candles. Some people say that it is silly for Grandmother and George to fall in love and get married when they are old. I think that those people are just jealous because they want to smile all the time like Grandmother and George.

It is spring and the church has ribbons inside, and the sun is shining through because the walls are all made of glass in this church. It is a small church because it has to hide way back in these woods, so people can walk to it. It’s more romantic that way.

More and more people are arriving. They are mostly old and tell me how big I am. Sometimes I would like to tell them how big they are, but I don’t because this is Grandmother’s wedding and she wants me to be good so I am. My brother and my cousin are ushering all the old people inside this little church. My mother and my aunt, who both have hair like the glow of a bright orange sunset, are rushing around trying to put all us kids in place. My little brothers are crying because they don’t want to carry the rings.

The music starts and it is time for me to light the candles. I light my stick and start walking. The aisle is not very long but I take a long time on it, because you’re supposed to walk slow at weddings. I pass all the people who say how big I am and I pass my cousins who are in front. They are both wearing pink dresses and they look alike. But I can tell them apart easy. Sometimes other people can’t. I like the way their brown and golden curls look messy on their heads. I think I would like to wear a pink dress and have messy curls. I light all the candles. It is quiet except for the music. My cousin winks at me and smiles. I like her even though she cries too much.

I sit down now because my job is done. Now here come my aunt and my mom in navy dresses and sunny hair. They are smiling with tears. My sister with the flowers and my crying brothers with the rings go next. Then there is my grandmother. She is even more beautiful today than usual. She is smiling with tears too, the same as my mom and my aunt. Grandmother’s dress is a rainbow of colors, and she is wearing a straw hat and carrying flowers. Everyone is looking at her because she is a pretty sight, and because she is so happy. I know for a fact that she is happy, because she doesn’t even mind anymore if we take drinks in the living room.

George is smiling too. I know he loves my grandmother because he looks like my little brothers do when they are about to get a candy bar. I like George. I like him even though he has a funny last name that I can’t say or spell. After my grandmother walks to the front, my cousins sing. My mom is really crying now and I don’t know why. My cousin who cries too much is singing with tears in her eyes, and my cousin who doesn’t cry is crying too. They are all crying the same way, like they are happy and sad at the very same time. The song is pretty and I know my grandmother likes it because she picked it out. She is proud of my cousins for singing and she is proud of all of us for doing our parts and being good. I know why everyone is smiling. They are glad that my Grandmother is so happy, but why is everyone smiling with tears? Suddenly I realize that after Grandmother is married to George, she will have to live with him in his house which is thirty minutes away. Maybe I won’t see her as much. She will live with George and with George’s cat and George’s dog. Grandmother doesn’t even like dogs, and George’s dog is big. She will go to George’s movie theater and George’s grocery store. She will even go to George’s church. I might see her only sometimes instead of all the time and I will miss her and now I’m smiling with tears. Grandmother is very beautiful and I am glad George makes her so happy, but I will miss her. Now I understand and I am happy and sad at the very same time just like my cousin who cries and my cousin who doesn’t, and just like my mom and my aunt.

At the party after the wedding, Grandmother and George dance together. I like the way my grandmother is smiling now. Her tears are gone and she is just having fun. And I know she hasn’t forgotten me. And she won’t ever forget me. But I will miss her anyway. Now everyone is dancing. There are no tears, only smiles. And now I am thinking that maybe I will learn to say and spell George’s funny last name…and Grandmother’s.

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Do you remember the first time you ever flew on an airplane?

When you first felt the now everyday miracle of accelerating down the runway and then the nose of the aircraft lifting up into the air?

Just like that.  All of a sudden, you are flying.  Houses below you become smaller and smaller, until they look like toys and then like ants on the ground.  Soon they disappear altogether below the clouds.

Puffy white pillows of condensation outside your window seat.

Honestly, it still amazes me when I fly.  I am like a little kid waiting for that second that the wheels lift off the ground.

The first flight I can remember being on was from Little Rock to Boston.  I was four years old.  I held my Grandmother’s hand during takeoff, watching out the window and anticipating a journey.  She and I were heading to Mystic, Connecticut for her niece’s wedding, and I was to be the flower girl. 

I am certain now that my role in the wedding party was entirely contrived by my Grandmother.  She had a way of arranging events and occasions into ways of relieving my mother and aunt of one of their children for a spell.  Grandmother took every one of her nine grandchildren on trips of our own.  

Though I was super excited about going on a trip with my grandmother, as a flower girl, I was somewhat unruly.  I fought my grandmother about curling my hair in sponge rollers the night before the wedding until she was in tears.  It was already late, after a long rehearsal dinner and my grandmother’s dear friend, Helen, was also at the hotel when she was trying to get my hair curled and me settled into bed.

Now, Alison, you need to settle down and go to sleep because I have not seen Aunt Helen in a long time and I want to visit with her.

My grandmother might have regretted bringing me along when I replied,

I have not seen Aunt Helen in a long time either, and I want to visit with her too!

I then proceeded to talk both of their ears off until late into the night.  They both laughed about it, but the next day I was a complete pill to deal with at the wedding.  In fact, I am not even in all the wedding party pictures because I was nowhere to be found.

I was aghast when I was handed my basket filled with a bouquet instead of petals to throw.  I felt I had been cheated when I realized I was to walk down the aisle without being able to throw anything on the ground.

At the dinner reception following the wedding, Grandmother was worn out from keeping up with me and trying to make me behave. She let me out of her sight long enough for me to consume two glasses of champagne, after which I danced with the ring bearer, the father of the bride and the groom himself before passing out on a chair next to her.  She was sitting at a table visiting with Aunt Helen.

I imagine my grandmother to have been slightly horrified when she explained to my parents that I had managed to get drunk on her watch, but we laughed for years about it. 

She always said she was glad she had brought the life of the party to the wedding, and I was always ready to hop another plane with her to anywhere she was headed, even more so if champagne was on the menu.

Airplane Wing Photo used with permission from photographer Jacob Slaton, who made me laugh when he put this picture on Instagram, because don’t we all love to take this shot when we’re traveling?

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Happy Easter!

Today we will miss my sweet Grandmother so much. She always met us at the door at church to say

HE IS RISEN!

and then waited for our reply,

HE IS RISEN INDEED!

She (on the left) and my other grandmother wore silly Easter bonnets last year that they made at Woodland Heights, the home where they lived down the hall from one another.

I know Grandmother is celebrating Jesus’ Victory over Death today, but I’ll miss her presence at our table, her smile at the Easter Egg Hunt and her joy over the truth of the good news on Easter Sunday.

These pictures were taken by Whitney last Easter, while Vitara was living with us. It was Vitara’s very first time to ever celebrate Easter.

Or to have an Easter Egg Hunt.

She jumped in joyfully and found her eggs!

I cannot believe that these pictures are only a year old because Mary Polly and Ben have changed so very much.

This is a stark reminder to me of how fast time is marching, and how much change there is with every season.

Sometimes I fool myself into thinking that each year is the same on Easter. That we did this all before.

And while we do repeat traditions, every year is so different. The Easter of these photos will not ever happen again, and I have to admit that it makes me sad.

But I am rejoicing that the truth of Easter is constant. That even though Grandmother is not here to say it, that Jesus Is Risen.

He Is Risen Indeed.

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I think that might partly be because my Grandmother was one of the only people in the world who cared whether or not I showed up for all of life in jeans and a t-shirt.

Actually it would have been ok with my Grandmother if jeans had never been invented.  (Perish the thought!)  Jeans were the epitome of casual to my Grandmother, and the fact that I wore them weekly to church growing up was one of life’s small agonies for her.

Let’s not even talk about jeans with holes.

If I did take the time and effort to put myself together to go and meet my Grandmother, she would always notice.  I could always count on her for a compliment.

One of the many therapeutic activities we did over Christmas was to go through Grandmother’s clothes, shoes and jewelry.  Every grandchild, every cousin, even lots of close friends chose keepsakes from Grandmother’s boxes of possessions.  She really did love clothes, and she loved all kinds of beads even more.

We each wore something of hers to her funeral.

Since then, whenever I get dressed, and especially on Sundays, I often grab something of hers to add.  These pictures are a collection of some of Grandmother’s treasures that I am wearing these days to try to keep her close.

Pearls, a beaded handbag, a scarf, a sweater, Mary Jane Keens.

Grandmother loved Keens.  She felt that they were both comfortable and trendy, and she would go regularly to the funky Ozark Outdoor shop in Little Rock to see what they had new in the way of Keens.

I have also been carrying her handkerchiefs.  They have come in very handy when I am missing her.

Which is still so very often.

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My beautiful grandmother went home home to be with Jesus last Saturday. And though I earnestly prayed all last week that she might be released from her earthly body, I have found that with each day that dawns, the world seems darker without her in it.

Today we will bury her and say goodbye.  We will gather and celebrate her life.  We will sing hymns that she chose herself, ones I have sung in her ears over the last days of her life.

Praise to the Lord God Almighty

Crown Him with Many Crowns

Holy, Holy, Holy 

Great is Thy Faithfulness

Each song is full of strong affirmations of the tenets of the faith that so many people will gather to attest that my Grandmother lived with every fiber of her being.

We will tell stories and share memories.  Like we have done for weeks.  A constant parade of people and letters has passed through my parents’ house in the two months of my grandmother’s illness this fall.  So many dear faces and sincere words of thanks.

You taught me how to pray.

You opened up the Bible for me.

I would never have gotten through my husband’s death without you.

You were my best friend.

You were my mother when my mother was gone.

I loved to hear you teach.

I met Jesus through your words.

You said just what I needed to hear.

She will be missed by so many for her wisdom and her strong spirit.  For her consistent dependence on the Lord.

I already know that what I will miss is her presence.  Her very constant place in my life.

I will miss her outstretched hand.  The hand I held as a little girl, the one I have grasped at the table in prayer, the one that reached to me to steady her as she grew older and the one I held as she took her last breath.

The picture above is one of my very favorites of my Grandmother.  It was taken before I knew her, when she was young and free.  I used to stare at pictures like this one of my Grandmother when I was a little girl and just be in awe of her beauty.

Somehow I imagine that this picture is at least a little bit how she will look the next time she reaches her hand out for me to take.

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As I write this morning, my Grandmother, who is the queen of the world in my heart, is fading from us.  She is taking her last breaths on this earth, and every one seems more labored than the last.

Yesterday at church, on this first Sunday of Advent, I sang Angels We Have Heard On High with all my heart, knowing my sweet Grandmother could not sing it, or even be there to hear a favorite Christmas song.  I comforted myself by remembering that soon she will be singing straight to Jesus.  Face to face.

When my Grandmother was a little girl, her brother and sister took music lessons, but she was told at an early age that she could not sing.  Since her mother thought she had no inclination for music, she signed her up for elocution lessons instead.  It has been a running joke in my family since then that she never lacked for words.

However, being told she could not sing never stopped her from singing.  Always loud and strong were her Holy, Holy, Holy’s and you could hear her proclaim Because He Lives off key from several pews away, much to the embarrassment of her children.

Her lucid moments as of late have been few and far between, but her daughters have been playing some of her favorite hymns for her and one morning last week they were playing some songs on a speaker near her when I pulled up.

Here comes Alison, my mother said to her.

Oh, Alison.  She came to hear the music!  she replied back.

Right she was.  I do want to hear the music.

A joyful noise.

For now and for always.

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My grandmother has been making these rolls since I was tiny.  And her grandmother before her.

My mom and my sister have made a few changes to this recipe over the years, so I have noted where we all differ.

They also have the rising and baking down to a science.  My mom can even get the rolls to the point where they just need 5-10 minutes in the oven after a two hour drive to Clarksville, Arkansas.  She bakes them until they are “almost done but still a little doughy” and then covers them with towels, throws them in the car and we are on our way.

We always make what seems to be an insane amount of these rolls and there is nothing quite like a yummy little tray of roll sandwiches the day after Thanksgiving.  We slice them in half, put a little turkey or ham on them, toast them and add a fresh cranberry relish for a tiny bite of leftover perfection.

One year, we ate all the rolls on Thanksgiving Day, so my mom went ahead and made more the next day, because she couldn’t bear to eat the other leftovers without rolls.

Grandmother’s Homemade Rolls

1 cup boiling water

1 cup lukewarm water

1/2 cup butter (or margarine if you are my mother or 1 cup shortening if you are my Grandmother)

1/2 cup sugar

1 Tablespoon salt

2 packages yeast (just under 2 Tablespoons yeast)

6 cups flour

2 eggs

1/2 to 1 cup butter for rolling out rolls

Directions:

Make the roll dough the night before your holiday dinner.

1. Dissolve sugar, salt and butter in boiling water.  Allow to cool.

2. Dissolve yeast in lukewarm water.

3. Add first water mixture to yeast mixture after it has cooled.

(Steps 1-3 can be speeded up by melting the butter, adding it to 2 cups lukewarm water instead of 1 cup boiling water.  Then you can add sugar and salt and you don’t have to wait as long for this mixture to cool before adding the yeast to it to dissolve it.)

4. Add 3 cups of flour and beat with a mixer or in the bowl of a standing mixer.

5. Add 2 eggs and beat again.

6. Add enough of the last 3 cups of the flour to make dough stiff but still a little sticky)

7. Cover with a towel and put in the refrigerator overnight.

Directions for rolling out rolls:

This process is made much easier by having a helper who will pick up the rolled out rolls and dip them in butter for you.

1. Melt  1/2 cup butter and pour it into a large cake pan.  Set pan on a plate (or any object) so that it is at an incline toward you and the butter runs down to the bottom.

2. On a floured surface roll out about half of the dough.  It will require a lot of flour and quick rolling because it shrinks back fast.

3. With a floured plastic child’s cup (what we use at our house) or a biscuit cutter, cut out rolls in circles.  As you are cutting, pick up (or ask someone else to pick up) each roll and dip it the pile of butter and then gently fold it in half and press it in place In the top corner of the pan. Repeat this with all the rolls, forming rows going up and down the pan.  There is not really space between the rolls, but they are not crammed together either.  They will rise together and bake all together but they are easy to break off.  Melt more butter if needed.

4. Allow rolls to rise for about 45 minutes.  If you need them to rise for longer because the turkey is still in the oven, you can set them in a cool place (or put them in the garage on top of the deep freeze is what we do at our house).  If you need them to rise faster, place them on top of the warm oven.  Bring the rolls back in the house though a few minutes before they go in the oven so they can come back to room temperature.

5. Bake 10-15 minutes at 400 degrees F or until just browned.

Serve your rolls warm.  We put them in a basket wrapped in a towel.

I promise you oohs and ahhs like crazy if you serve these rolls to your family for the first time.  Sometimes I will get a wild hair and make them in the middle of the year, not at Easter, Thanksgiving or Christmas, and people go cuckoo for them.  Literally.  Cuckoo for these rolls.

PS Here is my whole Thanksgiving Menu!

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For as long as I can remember, we’ve been making the same birthday cake in my family.

We call it Grandmother’s Chocolate Cake.

It is a buttermilk chocolate sheet cake with a pecan fudge icing.  You serve it with vanilla ice cream.  It is even more perfect if you also have a cup of coffee.  Some prefer it with a glass of milk.

We have a LOT of birthdays in our family (because there are a lot of folks), so this cake gets made many times every year.

When my brother, sister and I got married, my Grandmother made sure that we each had our own cake pan and cake server.  Just for this cake.

I even got a cookbook from my aunt as a wedding gift with the recipe hand-written into it.

Since it is my birthday and Whitney’s birthday AND my mom has a birthday two days after ours, we got together this week to make this cake.  Four generations and a cake recipe in my mother’s kitchen.

Even though it is the same time-tested recipe, we all have our own little twist on it.

The original recipe calls for shortening and margarine, which my Grandmother would not dare deviate from.  My mother uses all margarine, and my sister changed it to butter for her bakery.

Anna and I melt the chocolate on the stove.  Mother uses the microwave.

I chop the nuts with a big chef’s knife.  My mama uses a paring knife and cuts each one individually, so they are all uniform. I don’t have the patience to cut pecans that way, but I really do think it tastes better somehow.

While we were mixing up the cake, my mother gasped when I almost added the vanilla at the “wrong time” and my grandmother kept telling my mom that the frosting was not going to spread if she didn’t thin it with a little more milk.  There was also debate about whether or not you allow the cake to cool before you pour the icing on it.

In the end, it was delicious as always and we laughed that we were getting to eat it hot, because usually the cake is made the night before a birthday party.

The cake was gone before today, so probably we’ll just have to make another one.

And now you can make one too, because I am happy to share this heirloom recipe with you for the very best chocolate birthday cake. Ever.

Grandmother’s Chocolate Cake

Cake Ingredients:

2 ounces unsweetened chocolate

1 cup butter (or 1 cup margarine or 1/2 cup margarine and 1/2 cup shortening)

1 cup water

2 cups sugar

2 cups flour

1/8 teaspoon salt

2 eggs

1/2 cup buttermilk

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon vanilla

Frosting Ingredients:

2 ounces unsweetened chocolate

6 tablespoons milk

1/2 cup butter (or 1/2 cup margarine)

1 pound powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1-2 cups chopped pecans

Directions:

Melt together chocolate, butter (or margarine and shortening) and water.  Remove from fire and add sugar, flour and salt.  Mix with mixer until smooth.

Add eggs.  Mix well.

Mix buttermilk with baking soda.  Add to cake mixture.

Add vanilla.

Mix again and pour into large cake pan that has been greased and floured.

Bake at 375 degrees F for 25-30 minutes.

While cake is baking, make frosting.

Melt chocolate, butter (or margarine) and milk together.

Remove from fire and add powdered sugar, vanilla and nuts.

Mix well and pour over cake.

Enjoy!

A big thank you to Whitney for taking the pictures of us making this delectable cake!

And thank you Ziploc for providing all those cutie little VersaGlass containers that are holding the cake ingredients.  I will be giving some of those away very soon, so check back to enter!

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We partied all day on Sunday because we were also saying Goodbye to our exchange student, Vitara, who began her long journey back to Indonesia yesterday.

My grandmother played bridge for about 3 hours yesterday and then had to leave the game early because of some indigestion that actually turned out to be chest pains.

Today she’s in the hospital recovering from a heart attack.

It’s been a crazy few days with lots of emotional highs and lows!

And only God knows what tomorrow will bring.  Thank goodness He does.

Still, so grateful for so much…

all God taught me through having another daughter this year

Simon growing up

Grandmother and Simon sharing a birthday lunch

my mom and Whitney filling in the blanks for me

sweet goodbyes (so much love from our community poured out for Tara)

Mary Polly weighing Tara’s suitcase about 30 times while packing her up

Taido’s leading us as we shared favorite memories from our year with Tara

hearing my kids pray for Tara before we sent her off, sweet prayers

planted seeds

swimming at a friend’s house

going to free Chik Fil A night in our swimsuits

late night prayers

sleeping in

Good Eats (free breakfast and lunch at church for anyone 18 and younger!)

a friend taking all my crazy boys to the pool so I could go to the hospital (provision!)

Grandmother’s birthday.  Her precious life, hanging on strong, even after a heart attack.

Grandmother making me laugh, trying to get me to take home the banana she saved from her hospital tray.  (It’s a perfectly good banana!)

AAA (free towing of cars that won’t start)

two cars in the shop this month seeming like not such a big deal after hearing what another dear friend is experiencing (perspective)

Ben getting out seven plates for dinner

hearing encouraging reconciliation stories from a friend

homemade pizza

Settlers of Catan

summer nights

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