Myra, Meet the Family

Fresh out into the great big wide world.





Wrinkled toes,





a screamin' bath,





and meet your brother.





His name is Jack.





This is Jane.





She loves your toes.





And Lulie, she loves your tiny hands.





Home.

Resurrection Day

Breakfast and he's directing the play. "I'll be Jesus," Jack says, "and you can be an angel," he points at Jane and waves his arms, "that flies down from heaven, and sits on the tomb and says, 'HE IS RISEN!'" Jack uses his man-voice.

"And Lucy can be the women that come," Janie says, "and you," she points to me, "you can be the disciples." She turns to the living room, "I'll say, 'Why are you looking for the living among the dead?!" She turns a circle in her Easter dress, "Quick go tell the disciples and Peter!"

And so the morning begins. HE IS RISEN!

HE IS RISEN INDEED.

Da Man

Before we left, Jack instructed Daddy, "Jane won't get to come with me, and Lulie won't get to come with me so you'll have to watch over them." He tilted his head, watched Daddy nod.

"I'll watch over them for ya, buddy."

Then we left. Jack took me on a date. Tea and a cupcake with white frosting, warm milk with raspberry syrup, I love dates. We settled into a small table, the room bright with sun. Between the two of us we gathered napkins and straws, a fork and more napkins. He made runs to the trash. Oh, and he paid. Did I mentioned he paid? Daddy gave him money and Jack paid for the date. Those little shoulders squared and eyes bright, he barely peered over the counter. "I'm da man, Momma, so I gotta pay," he explained.

And so I let him.

The Edge of the World

"And so all the shepherds went into Bethlehem to find Jesus!"

I realize she's been staring into space when Janie turns her head to me, "So who watched all the sheep while they were gone?"

And then later, gathered around a small deli-table eating Costco pizza, "Daddy, when can I touch the edge of the world?"

It's hardly minutes later that our edge-less world rolls few paces down the field. At first it's so funny with Lucy there passing gas in the food-court. With the confidence of a presidential candidate she is cracking one, then another. And then all of the sudden we wondering how she's managed to soil right up the back of her shirt, onto the cart, past the seat belt, onto the floor. Of course Janie and Jack begin to shout that there is some on the floor and a giddy swarm of flies gathers.

"Janie!" Her eyes are HUGE. "Jane. Pretend like you don't notice." It is a command. She stares at me. "Pretend like you don't notice." It is sort of hard to ignore the flies, but she does a very serious fake-stare at a nearby advertisement for blinds. Craig sprints to the car. And for a moment, I begin to wonder if I might actually be at the edge of the world after all.

6 Kids, 6 Days - Part 3

"I really like my friends. Can they stay with us for 11 years?" Janie's eyes shine with possibility. Eleven years is so much less than forever. She's thinking I'll probably say, "Yes!"

Sunday we head for the park. Including the boys' chaperon, "Uncle" Chris, we are a party of nine. We walk through the wideness of green grass and tall oaks, pines, a footbridge, rushing river. I remember that morning weaving elbow-to-elbow through church. For a moment the mass of people had swallowed up Janie. And as I had turned to shout for her, a little black boy, quick as if released from a gun, had grasped her small hand and pulled her through the sea. To me. And for just a second, I saw the essence of being a man. I wanted to stare at that reflex to protect, the pool of safety that gathered at his feet. I wonder who taught these boys to be men. As we walk, each one is the epicenter of something extraordinary. And though we cut a wide path no one is beyond our reach.

6 Kids, 6 Days - Part 2

The Fishing Trip





"That the BIGGEST fish I ever saw!" Jack is shouting. His fish swallowed the hook. The other children, clutching their catch run up and down the river bank. Even Jane is bare-handed holding a little squirmer, slime and all. Thanks, Huck Finn. It's a first ever fishing trip for two of our boys.





The kids hold up their fish for us to admire. This after reassurance that they don't bite. Craig puts his index finger in the fish's mouth. Everyone laughs and tries it. I notice the boys' small hands. Eight years old. Only three short years more than Jane. I wonder where the boys were born and who cared for them. I wonder who released them to America.





Thanks to Gramma's fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and apple pie, we finish fishing with full bellies and wide smiles. Ain't nothin' can touch the hospitality on the farm.

6 Kids, 6 Days - Part 1

Jack keeps praying, "And Jesus, please keep Daddy safe BACK to Africa." Sometimes he adds a phrase or two about Janie and Lulie and Momma and him too. We sort of shrug and wonder if he will pray that again tomorrow.


Then, Janie wants to host the African Children's Choir, "Because I want to see a little part of how Daddy felt in Africa," she says. Africa. Daddy. She wants to be like her Daddy, her hero. A small breath of completely-inexperienced-hostess from me and I realize I'll have six children for six days.



(Lulie not pictured.)

Slum kids. They're slum kids. Orphaned. The paper said not to ask about family. 10 days of airplanes and airports, bus rides, duffel bags, fresh clothes and three little African boys land in the middle of our family.




Derrick, Benson, and Reagan sleep in our sun room for almost a week. A little corner of Africa unfolds. They arrive all grins, belly-laughs, and wide eyed fascination with everything they see. Our world is stretched and turned by these three boys. I've never seen such sterling manners and unbridled joy all in one package.

Huckleberry Finn

Children, meet your father, Huckleberry Finn.

























He cut the pole from a tree and dug the worms.


















So, I guess that make me, Mark Twain...?


















Hold on, let me thread this worm... don't pull yet.


























Wait for it... Wait for it...

























Wait for it... NOW!


















It a lunker.


















That was so easy I can do it too, Daddy... you just hold the pole.

























Let's give it a good YANK.

























I knew we could snag one!


















Guess the rest of the fish are safe for now.

:)

Bubbles

In protest of forty degrees and rain, one sunny afternoon.











































































































































Bubbles:

1/4 c. Joy dishsoap
1 c. warm water
1 sunny afternoon

Gently mix and enjoy.

The Fun Run

I bundled up three little runners for the St. Paddy's Day Fun Run. Here is the moment before I realize my keys are lost. Then I find them only to get lost looking for the race location, turn around twice, ask directions twice and then arrive late with no umbrella to a rain slicked track and lots of wind. Ahh, it's a wonderful life.
























When we pulled up into a gravely wide spot in the road and parked, Janie blurted, "Oh, is this the half-marathon?!" My heart was racing so hard at the thought of missing the Fun Run after all her hard training it felt like a half-marathon. We piled out of the car, squinted against the rain and RAN all of us around the track.

















Half-marathon, here we come!

















Daddy met us there.
























All her diligent training, we bought her a shirt which she then insisted on wearing for three days straight, even slept in it. Finally, I coaxed it into the laundry.

















Oh, everyone got ribbons!

Janie and Dad

Janie loves her dad.

Apple-O

Hooray Greenbluff!!
Last year they ate them core and all.
This year they ate 'em off the ground.



















Yay everybody.



















That one had a worm hole!














Ra-Ra-Ra!




















Giddy up!