Oh me, of little faith...
Yesterday, we celebrated my 11 year old's birthday with a fun "Chocolate" party. We made chocolate fondue, chocolate mousse pizza, and made hand dipped strawberries and pretzles. We had chocolate cake and ice cream. We also painted terracotta pots and planted Impatients and maragolds in them. It was great fun. There is such a thing as too much chocolate, but it was all delicious.
Last night, my body screamed in protest as I tried to move around. My legs were howling because of my lack of forsight in wearing shoes while standing in the kitchen for hours, preparing the chocolate delectibles. My back cried about the hunching over I did, while spraying the pots with sealant and helping 11 little tween's pot their plants. I mentioned to my 13 year old that I was thinking about taking today (Sunday) off, because I was exhausted, sore, and was fighting back a nasty headache. PLUS with no car, we'd have to take the train, and my dh had to work that night so wouldn't be going to church with us the next day. She responded with "MOM! You can't just take a day off of church, unless you are sick, travelling, or on your deathbead. REMEMBER?" Who says 13 year olds don't listen to the "why we go to church" lecture? I was a bit humbled, but more irritated that she would choose now to remind me what the right thing to do was. So, I told her I would have to see how I felt in the morning. Today, I woke up, feeling fine. Not a single thing wrong. So, I begrudgingly got my little family ready for church. We walked the 1/2 mile to the u-bahn. The sun was shining and everyone was a bit excited for the adventure of riding the train to church.
When we got to the u-bahn stop, I was reading the map to figure out which way we needed to head. Unfortuantly, the directions were all in German, and there was no "YOU ARE HERE" arrow. While I was trying in vain to figure it out, this same 13 year old says "Mom, we need to say a prayer." I told her to wait just a minute, engrossed at trying to translate with my poor German. A few minutes later, a little german oma (grandmotherly type) with a cane walked up to the stop. She smiled admiringly at the children...in that warm, cookies-and-milk type of way. Here's the strange part. She asks me in GERMAN, if we were going to a birthday party. (I carried 2 dozen cupcakes with us for "cupcake sunday"--celebrating the 5th Sunday of the month). I replied IN GERMAN that no, we were going to our church. Her eyes lit up and her lips formed a large 'o'. Then she smiled more at the kids, who smiled back. She then asked me, again in GERMAN if our church was there in the neighboring town, Feuerbach, and I replied in GERMAN that No, it was in Weilimdorf...another neighboring town. She quickly tells me that we are on the wrong side of the tracks and that once on the train, we needed to go to the main u-bahn stop to change trains to get there. She gives me the train numbers, wishes us a beautiful Sunday, and waves warmly, as we wish her the same, quickly gather our things up and dash around to the other side of the tracks. As we are crossing over the tracks, I mention to the same 13 year old, that it was so strange that I understood everything the oma said and that I knew the words to respond back. This, matter-of-fact teenager, told me, "Well, Mom, I said a prayer, and the oma walked up as soon as I said Amen."
We both instantly looked back at the stop we were at, only to notice the oma was no where in sight. Everyone was eerily silent. When we got off the train at our final destination, everyone enjoyed the morning walk for all it's beauty. The sun was vibrant, the birds were sing-songing us all the way to the stake center. The wafting of the lilacs made us continually breath in as much as we could. We giggled in the joy of it all. And all I could do was whisper an extremely passionate "Thank you, Heavenly Father", with tears of gratitude in my eyes.
Last night, my body screamed in protest as I tried to move around. My legs were howling because of my lack of forsight in wearing shoes while standing in the kitchen for hours, preparing the chocolate delectibles. My back cried about the hunching over I did, while spraying the pots with sealant and helping 11 little tween's pot their plants. I mentioned to my 13 year old that I was thinking about taking today (Sunday) off, because I was exhausted, sore, and was fighting back a nasty headache. PLUS with no car, we'd have to take the train, and my dh had to work that night so wouldn't be going to church with us the next day. She responded with "MOM! You can't just take a day off of church, unless you are sick, travelling, or on your deathbead. REMEMBER?" Who says 13 year olds don't listen to the "why we go to church" lecture? I was a bit humbled, but more irritated that she would choose now to remind me what the right thing to do was. So, I told her I would have to see how I felt in the morning. Today, I woke up, feeling fine. Not a single thing wrong. So, I begrudgingly got my little family ready for church. We walked the 1/2 mile to the u-bahn. The sun was shining and everyone was a bit excited for the adventure of riding the train to church.
When we got to the u-bahn stop, I was reading the map to figure out which way we needed to head. Unfortuantly, the directions were all in German, and there was no "YOU ARE HERE" arrow. While I was trying in vain to figure it out, this same 13 year old says "Mom, we need to say a prayer." I told her to wait just a minute, engrossed at trying to translate with my poor German. A few minutes later, a little german oma (grandmotherly type) with a cane walked up to the stop. She smiled admiringly at the children...in that warm, cookies-and-milk type of way. Here's the strange part. She asks me in GERMAN, if we were going to a birthday party. (I carried 2 dozen cupcakes with us for "cupcake sunday"--celebrating the 5th Sunday of the month). I replied IN GERMAN that no, we were going to our church. Her eyes lit up and her lips formed a large 'o'. Then she smiled more at the kids, who smiled back. She then asked me, again in GERMAN if our church was there in the neighboring town, Feuerbach, and I replied in GERMAN that No, it was in Weilimdorf...another neighboring town. She quickly tells me that we are on the wrong side of the tracks and that once on the train, we needed to go to the main u-bahn stop to change trains to get there. She gives me the train numbers, wishes us a beautiful Sunday, and waves warmly, as we wish her the same, quickly gather our things up and dash around to the other side of the tracks. As we are crossing over the tracks, I mention to the same 13 year old, that it was so strange that I understood everything the oma said and that I knew the words to respond back. This, matter-of-fact teenager, told me, "Well, Mom, I said a prayer, and the oma walked up as soon as I said Amen."
We both instantly looked back at the stop we were at, only to notice the oma was no where in sight. Everyone was eerily silent. When we got off the train at our final destination, everyone enjoyed the morning walk for all it's beauty. The sun was vibrant, the birds were sing-songing us all the way to the stake center. The wafting of the lilacs made us continually breath in as much as we could. We giggled in the joy of it all. And all I could do was whisper an extremely passionate "Thank you, Heavenly Father", with tears of gratitude in my eyes.
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