Her hair whips at her back as she leaps over rain puddles filling the gravel lot just outside the shop.
Unaware that I am watching, she prances marveling over her own grace and determination.
The youngest of eight, she has learned the importance of her own strength.
No proclamations will shape her world. She is her own girl.
People have asked me before, how I do it all ? with eight kids and two over 75 living at our house!
I dont know how to answer that question?
Mountains to climb for me are an adventure.
I learned when I was little, like Eliza, that you had to make your own fun and be intrigued with life on a daily basis.
The most wonderful part about that is that the world is full of different people. I love people.
If you've stopped in the shop and meandered around long enough ..then we've probably ended up talking.
Sometimes short sweet and to the point-- but other times into deeper conversations than neither intended.
If you like platitudes, I am not your girl. I have no time for false pretense or quips of this and that.
I care about that look in your eyes. I want to know that you are attention starved and need to be heard.
I want to hear how you can't stand the way America has changed or your empty nest is lonely and you are not sure what you want to be when you grow up. I am creative and eclectic so we could chat about anything? ? Let's reminisce about how we played 'kick the can" in our neighborhoods and caught fireflies in mayonnaise jars...Or how we drove to our grandparents house every Sunday for supper and later watched old black and white movies while our parents played bridge on the screened porch.
I remember feeling really free as a child.
Free to do and discover whatever was out there for me to find.
I was young and full of expectation.
We all were once.
Why forget that feeling? We need to believe in our own God given grace and determination.
She is soaked now and hungry.
Weary of puddle jumping for today.
We are ready to lock up turn the door sign to CLOSED.
Laughing with my arms full I ask her to hold the screen door.
Hearing it slam as we walk away,
I thank God for a slow rainy shop day spent together.