We have been so blessed this summer, while visiting the US, to stay in people's homes while they were out of town. We've had beautiful homes opened to us, and have gotten to know the tastes of some of these sweet families as a result. In one home, the man of the house clearly loved hunting. My sweet chubby-cheeked 4 year old was set to sleep in a room with a big deer head hanging on the wall. She had a few reservations. I suggested we cover him up with a blanket, she envisioned that (a spooky blanket with horns underneath?) and said, "No thanks." She settled in for the night, with a stiff upper lip and a determination to coexist with the deer. But then that night a horrendous rainstorm erupted. I heard the pitter patter as my own feet hit the floor. We met in the foyer, lightening flashing behind her frizzy nighttime hair, thunder crashing all around her. And just then, she glanced over to see this on the floor of the family's office. Of course, I had no camera, so my mind's eye will just have to take the snapshot for me. It was priceless. Enormous eyes, enormous cheeks. I said, "Are you scared?" She slowly nodded, never taking her eyes off the bear (a real one, shot in Canada) stretched out on the floor. I led her by the hand, put her in bed with her Papa, and soon she drifted off into a comfortable sleep, confident in her dad's ability to protect her from all that she feared. Meanwhile, replaced in the bed, I headed up to her bed, because what I fear most is not a deer on the wall, but facing the day with my 5 small children after a nighttime without sleep.
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