Memories

I have many, many amazing memories from my time as a missionary in Germany.  But there's one particular memory that keeps popping into my brain since Avery's arrival.  Really it was such a small thing I witnessed, processed and filed away.  I had no idea that nearly 10 years later this memory would surface. But surfaced it has and I'm glad.

My favorite photo of the Rodgers' Family from the mish

It happened one night at the Rodgers' home.  Either the Rodgers' or the Halverson's would invite us over nearly every week, and often both in the same week, and we loved going the 30 minute train ride from Regensburg to Parsberg.  Great families, great kids, great food, so it was always a highlight of the week.  On this particular night, it was the usual bustling household, filled with lighthearted banter and laughter.  The youngest at the time, Sarah, happened to be a little fussy.  She'd been crying and other people had tried to calm and soothe her but nothing seemed to be working.  After a few minutes, Rachel put down what she was doing (I can't recall what she was doing but probably preparing one of her mouth-watering meals) walked over and picked up her daughter, and simply held her close.  It was like magic, she instantly stopped crying and they just remained there, mother and daughter, gently swaying back and forth.  At the time I remember trying to look away, it seemed such an intimate, private moment, but at the same time I was mesmerized by the powerful bond so evident between them. I could not fathom having such an influence on someone.

Tonight I witnessed another such tender moment when Avery became distressed and began to heartily cry, something that really hasn't happened very often in her 12 weeks on the earth so far.  Andrew picked her up and held her close and she calmed down straight away and fell asleep.  It's amazing how having a daughter changes you, how your capacity for love increases so much you never thought it was possible.  All you want to do is protect the little life that you've brought into the world, while knowing full well that she's not going to stay this size forever.  But for now all we can do is to do our best for her and treasure up these memories.

And for Rachel, for me to remember such a seemingly insignificant moment, one that was no doubt played out hundreds of times in your home with each of your children, is a tribute to you.  I'm sure you can't remember this specific time that I'm recalling, but as you can see it made an impact.  You're an incredible mother and person.  And thanks again for your example and for all the great dinners!