With Abandon

About forty minutes from my home, just a short drive away, are beautiful botanical gardens.
Many years ago, my children gave me a membership to the gardens as a Mother’s Day present.
I have renewed that membership every year since.
It is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

I have met friends at the gardens for lunch.
I have taken others during Christmas when the gardens are transformed with millions of lights.
I promise myself that I will go to the gardens more often and simply walk on the gorgeous paths.
The solitude, among all that beauty, is good for my soul.

However, life happens, and the best laid plans often go by the wayside.
I prefer to go to the gardens when the weather is cool.
Each season brings its own beauty, with the flowers changing all around you.
The gardens are meticulously cared for; they just beg to be visited…often.

Last week, I got to see the gardens through the eyes of four of my grandchildren.
My daughter and I planned a visit.
We planned to get to the gardens right after they opened.
We brought a picnic lunch.

These four grandchildren are ages 6, 4, 2, and 7 months.
The littlest one was in a stroller.
We were thankful for the stroller because we had a place for our lunches and water bottles.
We entered and immediately saw arbors with gorgeous pink flowers growing all around.

My four-year-old granddaughter ran along the arbor, enjoying every pink petal.
We knew that there were at least three tree houses to climb and explore.
Imaginations produced the most wonderful stories of princesses in towers and daring rescues.
My two-year-old grandson loved climbing and kept up with the rest of us.

The children talked animatedly as we went along.
A lake became the Lake of Shining Waters from Anne of Green Gables.
Garden paths became The Secret Garden where Mary Lennox, Dickon, and Colin might appear.
Walking along the meadow path, we noticed birds and butterflies, ferns, and mushrooms.

By the time we stopped for our picnic lunch, we were tired.
We ate well and enjoyed being still for a while.
My two-year-old grandson cuddled against me and almost fell asleep.
Though he was fine in the morning, he seemed warm, and did indeed have a little fever.

We wanted to go to the bell tower, where chimes could be heard.
My granddaughters called it Rapunzel’s Tower.
I almost expected to see a long braid cascading down from the turret.
I sat outside with the two-year-old, who was clearly not himself.

My daughter carried her seven-month-old in a carrier and climbed up the bell tower.
My granddaughters’ excitement was palpable.
Large rocks next to a waterfall was a good resting place when they came back down.
The six-year-old looked like a mermaid as she reclined on a large rock, and I told her so.

Our day was done, but the littlest one needed to be fed.
The four-year-old and two-year-old stayed with their Mommy on a bench under some trees.
The six-year-old and I went to see the fountains that she was longing to see.
Usually, the fountains are choreographed to music, with jets of water shooting into the air.

We had just mentioned that we didn’t hear any music that day.
However, my oldest granddaughter and I walked to the fountains anyway.
We no sooner got there, the music started.
Patriotic music could be heard as the fountains danced in response.

Timing was everything.
We were clearly in the right place at the right time.
All of a sudden, what sounded like the boom of fireworks could be heard.
Jets of water came out of the ground, like a cannon.

The unexpected sound made the two of us jump, which made us laugh and giggle in delight.
I knew that we were in the splash zone.
I knew that we would eventually be sprayed with cooling water.
Not to disappoint, the water sprayed and glistened around us, with shimmering rainbows.

My granddaughter loved that I was getting wet, just like her.
My granddaughter loved that Grandma jumped at the loud sound, too.
Then, as if on cue, my granddaughter began to dance.
Enthralled by the music and the spray of the fountains, she danced with abandon.

I watched her and saw that some other children were doing the same thing.
There was no one to impress; it didn’t matter who saw them.
They were lost in the beauty and the magnificence of water shooting 175 feet in the air.
I wanted to dance right along with them, but instead I watched.

He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. “And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.” (Matthew 18:2-5)

Joy abounded that day by the fountains.
Exuberance was evident for all who had eyes to see.
Dancing with abandon was truly the only response.
My granddaughter chose rightly.

Oh, to be like a little child.
I wish I had a do-over.
I would have joined in the dance.
With abandon.