When the Midland Empire semi-trucks roll into town the older children whisper to the younger, “It’s coming.” Our small town’s “Street Fair” is something to set your clocks by as the last hurrah of summer weather. For one, glorious long weekend it seems the whole town turns to pageants, country contests, and blue-ribbon pies. Out-of-towners and locals fill the streets every night to stroll down the midway, eat funnel cakes, ride the Ferris Wheel, hop into the biergarten, or watch the parades.
Last year, early in the week, my littlest two and I dropped the big siblings off at school and strolled Main Street. I’m the type of mom who embraces almost any form of free entertainment, so when I saw workers setting up the rides, I parked our stroller with a front-row view. I tried not to think about how fast these rides would whip my children around on machinery that seemed to click together very similarly to a K’nex set.
My two-year-old was glued to the helicopter ride. Mesmerized. And, after we left, he asked me all day long if we could go back to visit the helicopters. Each morning, this became our routine. We dropped off the big kids and then strolled down to the helicopters, where he stared at them, taking it all in. After being asked multiple times when he could ride, I finally coached him to answer himself, “I get to ride the helicopters on Saturday.”
But still, he asked.
Finally, Saturday arrived, and we stood in the ticket line to purchase the all-inclusive four-hour wristband. The joy on my toddler’s face as he climbed into his carefully chosen green helicopter was priceless. As they “flew” up and down, his laughter was audible above the noise of the machines and crowds. I captured the moment, tied it up with ribbons, and placed it in that special part of my mind where only the best memories go so I can open them up and breathe them in on the dark days. Again and again, he went up and down, never losing the joy.
I want faith like that. Faith that returns every day to the true source of joy, and even when being told, not yet, just wait, not yet, to return. I want faith that is committed and true. A faith that, when unlocked, experiences the thrilling bicycling-downhill-with-no-hands-wind-in-the-face-heart-pounding exuberance. Give me faith like that.
Me too.
Thank you, dearest Molly💌