tell me a story

I like life stories.

Sometimes when I go downtown and I see all the old buildings and I think of how old Vermont is, I want to know the stories that go along with those big houses.

My Poppy told great stories. Many were stories of faith that have added so much to my life.

My mom doesn't tell too many stories from her life, but every once in a while, one comes out. One in particular that I remember is the story of when Dad was writing his masters' thesis. He didn't really know how to type, but my mom had taken a typing class in school, so into the night he would hand write a page and give it to my mom to type. She was pregnant with her 4th child and she would type up each page, and then lay down to doze while he finished the next page.  That story is such a tribute to my mother: always quietly doing her duty.

Since I like stories so well I often think of my life as a collection of stories. I wonder what stories I will tell when I have been married 30 or 50 years.  I will probably tell the story about the run-down little house we rented in Rupert on the other side of the tracks, and how I had to turn off the heat to vacuum in the winter so I didn't trip the circuit.

***

I wonder if I will tell today's story.

The story of how despite the rain, we packed the kids, kicking and screaming (literally), into the car with a picnic dinner to go "leaf peeping."

We endured the whines and the "how much longer?"s and wondered at God's magnificent paintbrush. Though the clouds blocked our view of the mountains, the rain made the colors surrounding us much more vibrant, and I found myself saying, "I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world Heavenly Father created for me."

Then as the kids settled down and the sun began to set and we headed home, I felt perfectly at peace as we listened to hymns and the rain on the roof and passed by farms and magnificent red and orange trees.

I think as the years go by and we look back to this time in Vermont we will say, "remember that time..." and we will tell this story.