Braids and Crayons

The trip to Chico for the wedding did have its happy and memorable moments. Driving north on Highway 99, miles from any town, I saw the Milky Way spilled across the sky. A shooting star streaked by us. A large barn owl caught himself a good breakfast and flew home to enjoy it.

Caper Acres at Bidwell Park

The best part was having the time to focus on my family. Without meals to prepare and laundry to do, I relaxed. We walked through Bidwell Park and played at Caper Acres. My husband and I talked during the long stretches of riding in the minivan. Communication and teamwork made every transition from car to hotel to restaurant to car go smoothly.

But there is one occasion that stands out. As I braided and curled my second daughter's hair (she and her older sister were the flower girls in the wedding), she said to me, "Sometimes I feel like I'm missing out."

Memories of being the middle child washed over me. "I know what you mean," I said.

We talked for a few minutes about being the younger child, about being the older child, about growing up. And then I said, "I know you want to be like your sister, but remember, you are you. You feel like you're being left behind, but really, you are on a different path than her."

My daughter's response was, "You can't start a fire by rubbing two crayons together." While I was working on her hair, she was intently studying the crayons in her hand. The conversation was over, but I hope she heard a little of the something I had to say.