I took my daughter to the Farmer’s Market this weekend. We arrived early; before the suffocating summer crowds could gather, before the heat of the day would beat down on the hard pavement. We weaved through the stalls, tasting breads and jams and marveling at the vibrant colors of the many June vegetables. Continue reading
It is fitting that on Father’s Day I share a memory of a moment long ago with my Dad. I’m not sure how I remember this, or even if I am remembering this correctly. I have a terrible memory! Stories of my childhood are fuzzy visions, and I am uncertain if they are reality or made-up!
Our family attended a small country church on a dusty road near our home. Every Sunday morning, we saw the same people sitting in the same church pew. (We all sat towards the back of the sanctuary, of course, like good Lutherans do.) I remember being terribly bored, and finding creative ways to stay entertained so I would not have to actively participate in church. For my very young self, this church thing was difficult to understand and appreciate.
From the earliest age, we teach our kids to say ‘Please’ and ‘Thank-you.’ Besides ‘Momma” and “Dada’ those are the first words our little ones are able say. My husband and I taught both of our kids a limited amount of baby sign language. Some of the first words they learned centered on explaining a need – please, food, water, milk. Please and thank-you are easy. These are the magic words we say to get what we want! Continue reading