It was the year we had to pack up all our belongings and move nearly 4,500 km. from one side of this wide country to another.
The year my family traveled in rusty green Oldsmobile in the sweaty, muggy days of summer, with no air conditioning, windows rolled down and hair flying in the wind…
It was the year we had to give away the cute puppy we just adopted at Christmas, pack up and move from our cozy country home,
comfortable with the rolling ocean, loving grandparents, cousins and a beautiful church family nearby,
and relocate our family in one flea-ridden, dingy townhouse in a small city in southern Ontario.
{truly, the house had fleas … horrid fleas …}
The year our tiny Ontario home was sandwiched between some not-so-nice neighbours on either side of our house
– one that yelled and swore at his wife all day long and the other who yelled and fought with her husband all day long.
And it was all heard through the paper-thin walls.
It was the year that my young parents were probably very tight on money and had to make strict choices for their future.
The year Christmas was skimpy and debts were high and furniture was threadbare and worn.
But … all that didn’t really matter to me, as a child.
Truly, this scary, money-stretching, sad, bitter year was one of the best years of my childhood.
As a freckled little girl, I remember laughing around that small kitchen table in that itty bitty kitchen,
sitting together with my siblings while my mom made us special lunches of pickle-boats with wind sails made from cheese …
…caterpillars made from celery sticks stuffed with peanut butter and raisins for eyes …
Don Fransico music playing on the record player.
…the year we learned a lot about Jesus while my parents tried to find a new church.
The year we schooled together at home.
I remember happy music, checker playing with the family, Connect 4 and creaky bunk beds.
I remember our Abeka homeschooling books being read out loud and happily playing Barbies with my sister.
And I see now, as an adult, looking back at what might have been one of my parents’ hardest years in their young marriage …
it truly was a good year.
It was a beautiful year.
For it is not where we were, what we had or did not have, or what kind of house we were living in …
children remember the love of two parents and the faith in Someone Higher …
the feeling of security and love.
It’s not about the materialistic things of this world,
the fancy five bedroom home or biggest SUV in the parking lot, the ipod or latest gadget you gave your child for their birthday.
Children will not always remember the things you bought them,
or the money you spent on them …
but, they will indeed remember the love gave them.
“Children will not remember you for the material things you provide,
but for the feeling that you cherished them.”
-R. Evans
P.S. Lacey, 9, is working on a special birthday present for her baby sister, Leia …
a family of momma chicks and her babies.
I am very proud of her and I truly think they are the cutest little things!
by Gigi
8 comments