Tales from Edisto
Well, we’re tracked out for 3 weeks, and my kids are at the beach. My Mom and Dad (There are honestly not words to describe how wonderful they are to me. They are a continual example of what loving God’s way is truly all about, and I don’t deserve them! I’m thankful that God put me in their care.:)) took the kids home with them to offer me a few extra weeks to rest and completely recover from my tonsillectomy.
This morning, I had a wonderful telephone conversation with Mom in which she shared some great “Zoe stories.”
First, I have to tell you, my mom is truly a hero. In addition to all the sacrificial service that characterizes her life, she now saves lives. Here’s what happened:
Yesterday on the beach, Zoe found a butterfly that had gotten caught in the sand somehow. For one reason or another, it seemed unable to move. She ran to Mom and said, “Grandma, I think it’s hurt!”
Mom walked over, and said, “No, I think it’s dead.”
Zoe insisted that the butterfly was just hurt, so Mom poked the butterfly with her finger. In response, the butterfly started fighting to free itself, so Mom put it on her finger and flicked it into the air. Immediately, the butterfly batted its wings and flew away. Zoe exclaimed with utter delight, “Grandma, you saved its life! You saved its life!!”
It’s the stuff of which legends are made.
This morning, while they were eating breakfast, Zoe was chattering on and on about how many people she knew named Zoe besides herself. Mom made a comment about how she talked all the time. In a few moments, Zoe said, “Look, Grandma!”
Mom said, “What am I looking at?”
Zoe said, “I can be quiet while I drink my milk.”
How did I end up with a child who believes her quietness is a “you’ve just got to see this” event? Wait. Don’t answer that.:)
