Beech Tree News Network

We had the best time at our house this past week.  Sabria’s best friend, Jazz, spent the week with us.  It was reminiscent of the times my youngest daughter, Nikki, and her friends, Heather and Jessie, spent time here as children.  When little children get together, they create a sort of joyful chaos like no other.  They turn ordinary things into imaginary worlds or their own making.
    Ribbons become leashes.  Balloons become dogs named Pinkie and cows named Moo.  Tents become hideouts, vantage points from which they can jump out and scare adults as they walk by.  They make concoctions with chocolate milk and Kool-Aid then swear it tastes wonderful as their eyes nearly roll back in their heads as they drink the mixture. 
    They jump on the trampoline until they run into the house to tell on one another.  “She kicked me too hard!”  “She started it!”
    “Don’t tell on each other for stupid stuff,” I say.
    “You said a bad word,” Jazz chastises me.
    “Stupid?” I say.  “I’m not calling you guys stupid.  I’m just saying don’t tell on each other over little things.  If one of you pokes the others eye out, come tell me.”
    They both laugh then return to the trampoline.
    After dinner, each girl gets a shower then they play together in the tub with a hundred miniature babies left over from my niece’s baby shower.  Later, I enter the bathroom to get them out of the tub, slipping and sliding on water and naked babies that have washed overboard.  They finish the night by playing games on each other’s tablets. 
    At bedtime, they sleep with me in our bed, Garey takes the couch—he’s such a good sport.  Sometime around two a.m., they root me off my side, and I end up on the futon in the next room.  In the mornings, when I go to wake them, they are snuggled up together, the two mermaids they named Jewel and Pink Heart squashed between the two of them.  (I will never forget that image.)  Garey helps Sabria dress for school; I help Jazz.  Remarkably, we arrive at the drop-off point on time.
    Jazz is the granddaughter of Lloyd and Donna Brooks.  Jazz was staying with us because Lloyd, who has undergone cancer treatments this year, had to be rushed to the hospital over some unexplained bleeding.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with their story, it is one fraught with heartbreak, yet Donna Brooks has one of the strongest faiths I have ever encountered.  During less than four years, Donna and Lloyd have lost both of their children (Jazz’s mom while Jazz was just a toddler), and Donna has lost both of her parents.  Add to that, Lloyd’s cancer diagnosis and ensuing treatments, and you have a situation that would break most people in half, myself included.  Donna continues to walk steadfastly through each day, praising God for each small victory.
    At the end of last week, Lloyd had grown strong enough to return home, so Donna picked up Jazz from school on Friday.  It was Sabria’s weekend with her dad, so Garey and I returned to a very still and quiet house that afternoon.  I really missed them, but I have to admit it was nice to sleep in my own bed.