pictures
I know many of you think this story is about a stock market crash, but this is a story about a different kind of crash. Bicycle helmets are a relatively new item, that was unheard of when I was a kid. They first began making them in about 1975, but weren’t very protective, They began improving them in the mid 80’s, but were rarely used. That said, it is safe to say that my girls grew up, just like their parents, not using a helmet when riding a bike. We weren’t considered negligent at that time. That was the way everyone rode their bicycle.
It was the summer of 1986, and almost the end of June. My daughter, Corrie would turn 11 on June 30th, a birthday she shared with her great grandmother. Like most kids, in the summertime, Corrie’s mode of transportation was her bicycle. We lived out in the country, and the road in front of our house was not a busy street, so my girls and their friends rode their bicycles there for hours each day. A few days before Corrie’s birthday, I was in the house while the kids played outside. Suddenly, I heard a blood curdling scream, and then another smaller scream. I ran outside, to find Corrie’s friend running to get me, tears streaming down her face, yelling, “Corrie wrecked her bike!!”
I ran out to Corrie, to find her bleeding from her face, and I don’t mean her nose. The scrape looked really bad, but I could tell that it would not need stitches. I did think there was a definite possibility that she would have a scar on her face. My heart sank. I hated to think of her having a scar for life. I prayed inwardly, so I wouldn’t scare her, and asked God to please heal her face without a scar. Since she hit her face, I watched for all the usual signs of concussion, but nothing ever came of that. Nevertheless, she was very upset. 
She was horrified that she would look awful on her birthday and in the pictures that would be taken…typical of a soon to be 11 year old girl.
She survived the horror of having her picture taked with a scab on her face, and her face healed with no scarring, for which I praise God. The birthday party went on, in spite of the scab, and this story has a happy ending, but the moral of the story is this: To avoid your own crash story like this one, I recommend that you and your kids wear a bicycle helmet. While it won’t necessarily save you from the crash, it might save your face from the scabs and scars.
When my girls were little, Bob and I wanted to start bowling. We started looking for a babysitter. I volunteered at the girls’ grade school doing throat cultures, and had seen a girl there who I knew to be the daughter of a man Bob worked with, and they just happened to live out in the country, just about a mile from our house, so it seemed ideal.
Molly was a little young, just in 6th grade, but she had 2 little sisters, Kelly and Jenny, so she was somewhat experienced, and her family lived close by, so if anything went wrong, help would come quickly. The decision was made. We asked her, and she agreed. She would babysit every Monday night, and assorted other days, when we needed her.
My first instincts about Molly were correct. She had some experience…lots of experience. She must have been a great help to her mom and dad, with her little sisters, because she knew what little girls would want to do. She played outside with them when the weather was nice, and inside when it wasn’t. At Christmastime, she would bring paper, glue, and glitter; and the kids would make us pictures to hang up for the holidays. And the best news, she never left us a mess. She even washed the dishes. The house was spotless when we came home. I was stunned, to say the very least! Where do you find a babysitter like that? Almost nowhere!! We were so completely blessed by Molly!!
But, more important than the blessing Molly was to Bob and me, was the blessing she was to our girls. They dearly loved Molly, and couldn’t wait to have her come to babysit the next time.
There were never tears when we left, there were smiling waves goodbye. We left our house, knowing that it and more importantly, our children were in great hands.
As the years went by, and our girls no longer needed a babysitter, Molly would go on to college and marriage. She moved to Iowa, and has children of her own. While I haven’t seen her in many years now, I am in touch with her family and hopefully her soon as well, on Facebook. While she has a life of her own now, I hope she knows that we will always have a soft spot in our hearts for the best babysitter we ever had!
When my girls were little, and learning to do chores, I wanted to make it fun for them. Since they were little, they, like most little kids, loved having their picture taken. I got this crazy idea to take pictures of the cleaning process, and the girls loved it! Most kids are that way. Having their picture taken and being able to have a little memento of an event is just cool. And since I had a Polaroid…remember those…they could see the picture right away.
They were great little helpers, like most children at that age. And I think the pictures really inspired them. Too bad those years don’t last…right? All too soon, come the days when you tell them to do their chores, and all you hear in, “Oh Mom!! Do we have to!!” So, you enjoy those 
years while you can. The girls were always wanting to help out, and they did a pretty good job too. They were willing to listen and eager to please. You see, I thought I had it all figured out. And my plan was working too.
Unfortunately, with their teens, came boys and then cars, jobs, and other activities, and suddenly helping with housework just didn’t carry the same excitement…and pictures didn’t help…at all!! What is that all about? Pretty soon, just like every parent before me, I found out that the girls would do whatever it took to do just about anything but clean house. And I can’t really say that I blame them. I hate housework too…don’t you?
