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The fishes and the loaves were an abundant blessing to the people, and I often think of this parable when my life is overflowing.
I have realized that my fishes and loaves are three little girls (my miracle blessings) who call me grandma.
Can anyone tell me what feels better than spending an afternoon amid giggles from little girls?
When they first arrive, we will have to check the gardens to see what is new since the last time they were here. Lately there is the progress of the pumpkin patch to watch, and ours is going to be a bumper crop.
We especially like the way pumpkin vines get little curly stems near each pumpkin. Our pumpkins, both white and orange varieties, small and big, have taken over a section of the lawn.
Then there are the flowers that need to be watered. Now they don’t really need to be watered but there is some sort of a magnet between children and water. I don’t know what the draw is, but water is fun.
We will check the milkweed for monarch caterpillars and treasures of flower blossoms and seeds will be put into pails and flower pots. We will soon have a lovely collection to admire.
At garage sales I watch for dresses that would be fun to play dress up with. This past spring I found two beautiful floor length dresses that were probably flower girl dresses once. My 6-year-old granddaughter likes to put on a dress and her fabric wings. She then informs me that she is a garden fairy.
Of course she is.
I would have loved this type of outfit to play make-believe in when I was her age. Why should age matter? Our imagination can take us anywhere at any age. I strongly encourage their imagination; the world desperately needs more dreamers.
After a trip to the Minnesota Zoo, my 5-year-old granddaughter said, “Grandma, guess what? We went to Africa and we took the van!”
Of course they did.
Did I correct her with a lengthy geography lesson on how this was not possible? No. If she wants to believe that the van took them to Africa, I want to ride with her next time. I want to believe it can be so, too.
They have spent many weekends this summer camping on the river. After seeing a picture of a successful fishing afternoon, I was informed that she had caught a 12-inch crappie. Lots of grins on that photo and I know they had a good time.
It reminded me of once when I was fishing with my dad at about the age of 10 or so. We had cane poles with bobbers on to fish from shore. I caught a huge sheephead and, by the laws of physics, my cane pole should have snapped in two — but it didn’t. I can remember my dad letting me pull it in as best I could. I am sure he thought of taking the pole from me and bringing the fish in, but he let me do it myself. I think every child needs at least one memory that stands out when they realized they could do it alone; whenever, whatever it was — when we grow our wings and fly for the first time.
Linda Fort lives on a farm near Ridgeway, raises calves and heifers and crops. In addition to staying active in the community, she’s enjoying grandparenthood. “There’s a reason they call it ‘grand.’”
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