Adventure seems to be born into the spirit of all, at some point in our lives.
Yesterday morning as I absorbed myself in the unpacking and chaotic organisation of our tupperware, I realised that I had not heard from Jack or Sam for at least 15 minutes. Usually I can hear them playing and suddenly the airwaves had become silent. I tread outside and called out, which usually elicits a reply telling me they have not gone far. There was no answer,
So I walked up the bank to our backyard, calling as I walked. Still nothing. As my Mummy instincts kicked in, something told that all was not well. I walked briskly (ran) up our 200 m driveway to the highest point of our property and called again. This time I heard the faint reply; Jack's voice brought relief to my heart. But where were they, I followed his voice, which contained no panic or worry and began to walk up our dirt road. Over the small rise in the road I saw them emerge. Happy as can be, totally oblivious as to have caused any concern.
Hi Mum, we are adventuring. We saw Rosellas and everything.
Where is Sam?
He is coming
Here I am Mum (Sam)
Jack is carrying a rope, wearing his trademark gumboots and walks with the air of a mountain man.
Sam trails behind, having walked 500m or more carrying a waterbottle the size of his arm.
It's Ok Mum, we brought water.
You know the feeling a Mum goes through in times like this right. Panic, anger, relief, unparalleled love and pride. So by the time they have walked all the way back to me, I have mellowed somewhat. I am not angry by nature and cannot remain cross for long even if I try. Just ask my husband.
I sternly tell the boys that they are not to leave the property without us, and that they are not to go past the fence and the end of our driveway. I remind them about the dangers and that I am not worried about them looking after themselves,but about what others may do to them. It is a very quiet culdesac on unsealed road, so traffic is scarce. No matter, there must be rules. We agree to review the rule when Jack is at a more advanced age.
You should have told us Mum, I didn't know.
Yeah, I know, sorry mate. Well you know now hey?
In my mind I travel over the fact that I assumed they knew the boundaries. I should know by now you can assume nothing with kids. Just like when you bring a new dog home, you must walk the boundaries of your property, making sure they know where the borders lie.
Meanwhile I lift Sam into my arms and I marvel at him. Barely out of breath, he has walked a country mile, carrying more than his own weight. A little boy with a heart that is wanting all manner of healing, adventuring with the his brother. Full of excited stories, and proud of his own efforts. I carry him back to the house to save his already tired little legs.
I tell you this story not to alarm you, but to share a little piece of my joy. My joy at having kids who are not afraid of a challenge, who see opportunities and take them up heartily. I rejoice at their growing friendship and trust and care for each other. I rejoice in the fact that they follow rules as long as there is a logical explanation. And most of all I rejoice in God who gave them the lives that they now have. I am astounded at Sam's stamina, and his ability to endure all manner of things, though he may do them more slowly, there is no mountain to high for him.