I Hope….

 

The tablecloth on my kitchen table is not changed very often anymore because there is rarely a meal served on it.   It stays quite clean!  I eat alone now and admit – I often sit on the couch with my plate in my lap!   But today I did sit here, writing out a few cards to send in the mail.  The summer is coming to an end, and the temperature is dropping just enough to shut the air conditioner off.  The road construction is finished, so dust is not flying in the windows and the obnoxious sound of cement mixers is not drowning out my thoughts.  The doors and windows are open, and dinner is on the stove.

I can hear the sounds of lawn mowers cutting grass.  That sound always makes it feel like dinner time. Dad always came home and cut the grass after dinner.  Sometimes after he cut the grass, he took all the kids in the neighborhood for a ride around the block in the back of his pick-up truck.  We had great fun waving to everyone as we went by once…..  twice…..   sometimes three times!

I hope my granddaughter gets to ride in the back of her Dad’s pickup truck 😉

An ice cream truck even pulled into the court, played its tunes for a few minutes, stopped for two little girls in the front of my place, and then made his way down the street.  I remember chasing the ice cream man down Hemingway on summer evenings.  I still remember the coconut-covered chocolate ice cream bar I always bought.  It was 15 cents!

I hope my granddaughter gets to chase the ice cream truck 😉

Barley soup is on the stove.  It smells just like my childhood did.  Like home.

I hope I get to teach my granddaughter how to make barley soup 😉

I’ve got some great childhood memories, and today each one of my senses reminded me of the simplicity of life when I was young and running around barefoot from sun up until the street lights came on.  I can pray all sorts of things for my granddaughter who is due to make her way into this world a month from now – but the things I pray for most are the simple things.

I hope my granddaughter is blessed with memories of sounds and smells that remind her how much she is loved.  I hope she gets to hear her Dad cut the grass, and smell her mom’s home-cooked dinner on the stove.  I hope she gets to make memories at my kitchen table with me.

I know this sounds silly.  But if you know me, and you know the story about my kitchen table – then you know I have had all sorts of silly ideas and thoughts while I sat here.  But I really wonder if God gave us the ability to hear and see and feel and smell so that we could remember all of the little things that really matters……  And I wonder, if after all, it’s those little things to us that are a big deal to Him.

Just a random thought, at my table – that’s all……