I found myself thinking about my mother the other day.
It was a bird that brought back the memories.
It was a bird that was happily taking a bath in a small amount of water.
A small mount of water is all the tiny bird seemed to need.

I remember how much my mother wanted a birdbath in our back yard.
It was the days of hanging laundry on clotheslines.
It was the days of long poles that lifted the clothesline high in the air.
It was the days of clothespin bags that moved along the clothesline with you.

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I was never a cheerleader.
I was never a dancer, though I took ballet lessons as a little girl.
I was never an athlete.
However, I loved music, and singing, and participating in school plays.

On a whim, early in my high school years, I tried out for something.
A few friends and I decided to try out together.
It was not a dance troupe.
It was not a cheerleader squad.

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My neighbor’s dog was out when I went on my early morning walk.
This is the dog that never barks at me.
This is the dog with whom I am friends.
I talk to the dog by name every morning.

I saw a few deflated balls in the yard.
This Bernese Mountain Sheepdog likes to carry the balls around in his mouth.
He is the protector of the yard.
He is the protector of the house.

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When my friends and I came home after the lovely Christmas social, I opened a present.
One of my friends had gift bags for each of us.
She gave them to us before we left.
My gift bag was on my desk in the kitchen.

I had not thought about the gift all evening.
There it was, waiting for me when I got home.
I opened the bag to see some of my friend’s delicious chocolate chip cookies.
There was a gold box in the gift bag as well.

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I know the road like the back of my hand.
It is the road I take through Amish country.
It is the road that brings me to my favorite little shop.
I saw orange detour signs pointing in the direction I was going.

Road closed except local traffic were the words I read.
I needed to drive down that particular road no more than three miles.
I had no idea why there was a closure.
I wondered if the part I needed would be accessible.

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I teach Bible study in my home.
We begin our study in September and we end in May.
Some of us have been together over eight years.
God brings new women each year.

It is a privilege to teach this Bible study in my home.
There is something so cozy about sitting around the kitchen table and island.
When we outgrew that, I bought folding chairs to put in the adjoining family room.
When we outgrew that, I bought more folding chairs for the women God is bringing.

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My youngest daughter is a senior in college.
That does not seem possible.
She is living in an apartment on campus this year.
She is living with four other girls.

When she came home for an overnight visit, she had so much to talk about.
She likes her apartment.
She likes its location on campus.
There is one thing that is her favorite thing about the apartment.

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We were driving to a wedding.
We were driving through my favorite place of Amish buggies and farmland.
As we passed a farm, driving slowly behind other cars, I saw a pile of wood on a side yard.
I looked closely at the three Amish men who were standing over the pile.

Upon further inspection, I noticed three little boys standing near them.
The excitement on their faces gave it away.
What looked like just a pile of wood was much more than that.
This pile of wood was going to be a swing set.

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There has been a lot of furniture shifting in our home.
My son and his wife who were married last year, now have a house.
He brought his bedroom set to their hose for a spare bedroom.
That left the room that my boys shared growing up very empty.

A comfy chair was still tucked in the corner.
A desk that belonged to my mother was still in the room.
The bed was gone.
The chest of drawers and tall bookcase were gone.

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I just pulled weeds in the mulch beds out front.
Then it rained.
The next day, when I went outside, I saw them.
Little tiny weeds were beginning to poke through.

The weeds are easy to pull, especially if you stay on top of them.
Sometimes, however, a feeling of futility has to be purposely squelched in my heart.
I just pulled these weeds, I said to no one in particular.
It did not matter; they were back again.

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