Oak Tree in an Acorn: Always in the Ice Cream Zone

Monday, September 8, 2008

Always in the Ice Cream Zone

The Kona Ice Cream man has started visiting our neighborhood on Wednesday evenings, and as soon as the kids hear his tropical music playing, they come running into the cul-de-sac. Olivia's current favorite is a cherry-blueberry combo snowcone, which is a concoction created by her cousin and neighbor (how lucky is that to have your cousin also be your neighbor?), Elena. Eve hasn't had the opportunity to try any yet, but maybe next spring....

A couple of weeks ago, the ice cream man got held up, and didn't arrive until 1 1/2 hours after he usually visits. It was so funny watching the kids scooter by in the cul-de-sac; they looked like little ants scurrying to find The Great Picnic! Someone would bike past and say, "I think I hear his music," but, alas, it would only be a teenager's car stereo. He came by after the kiddos were already in bed, so Brian went out and told him he missed the big scoop by coming late. Last week he was early, and the kids had sweet, sticky faces at bedtime. :)

No comments:

Post a Comment

Why the title, "Oak Tree in an Acorn"?

Well, really it's all about perspective when raising the girls. It helps me to think about the grand scheme of parenting and remember that what we do now affects how our little acorns will grow. Like an oak tree, we want them to be strong in their words and deeds, be able to withstand life's storms, set and reach their goals, and be people that others can lean on and trust.

We have an oak tree planted in our yard that came from an acorn my dad planted in a pot. This acorn came from a huge oak tree that was planted in the backyard of my dad's childhood home. My dad's father also planted this tree from an acorn he found on his hunting lease in the early 1960's. Our tree is thus a family heirloom, a "family tree".

It was the year of Olivia's birth when we planted our little sapling. It looked so very sad that winter with no leaves; it was, basically, like a stick rooted in the ground. Five years later, though, it stands 9 feet tall, and we continue to nurture it and watch it grow. We hope one year it will produce acorns of its own, and we can continue to pass on this family heirloom. We hope to remember it's example of how each acorn has the potential to be an oak tree, and how our acorns, Olivia and Genevieve, will one day, with help from God, become mighty oak trees themselves.