Circle of Life

...no...I'm not talking about death...I'm talking about life. It goes in circles. Things that "go around" often do, in fact, "come around". Call it karma, tell me you're "paying it forward", you can even "blame it on the rain" (but please don't lip sinc) whatever you call it--it is evident to me that we are definitely in this life together. And as my momma told me in an email earlier today "God likes circles"...I am inclined to agree with her, esp. as I get older. The REASON my mom talked about "circles" was because I called her to get the name of the sweet old lady that lived at the top of the culdesac where I grew up. I called to get this woman's name because two days ago my life came full circle (in a small way, of course but in the sweetest small way)...
You see, WE (my husband, two children, and I) now live in a culdesac much like the one I grew up in. A culdesac FILLED with children. And every afternoon, after school lets out and Grace wakes up from nap (or pretending to nap...) these small children spill out of their homes, climb upon the nearest wheeled toy, and play until Daddy comes home or the sun goes down (whichever comes first). One of these children is named Brooke. She was mentioned in another one of my recent blogs titled "We're off like a herd of turtles". I've met her parents...once. She comes out to play alone. She is an only child. And her bike riding skills have MUCH improved since the last post when I talked about her doing more falling than actual pedaling. On a side note: It's amazing to me how quickly children pick up on the "no training wheels" thing. One day they're wobbling down the street and the next they're zooming in and out of other children like they've been doing it for years. ANYWAY...Brooke doesn't wear a helmet. This worries me. Like my daddy says "you don't get do overs" and I just worry sick about Miss Brooke and her bare head. (Don't you worry though, I'm searching garage sales for one...but if you have a nice helmet that would fit a 1st grader, you can pass it my way) Like I mentioned before...I don't see much of Brooke's parents. But I see a lot of Brooke. So, two days ago...school let out, naps were over, the air was crisp and cool, and children spilled out of their homes. Among them was Brooke and her bike...she zoomed up and down the street. Fast then slow then fast again. The kids raced and swerved, stopped then started. I love living in my culdesac. I love the sound the children make. It is music. But suddenly, in the middle of the "music" there were tears, and crying, and WAILING. Yep...Brooke fell OFF her bike. Don't worry, she's okay. But it hurt and it was scary and she was going fast. I ran over. Scooped her up off the pavement. Inspected the wounds (invisible to the adult eye, but VERY much real to the 7 year old). Hugged. Patted. Reassured. Hugged again. Righted the bike. Told her she needed a helmet. Hugged...again. Said something about her being a "rockstar" and then helped her climb BACK on the back and join in the "music" once again. And as she rode off...there I stood. Thirty years old. Yet in my mind...7 again. And my left knee began to burn. I almost LOOKED at it. You see, when I was about Brooke's age, I fell off MY bike. In MY culdesac. I scraped my knee (the scar is still there 23 years later--it was summer and I was in shorts). I think I cried. I DO remember sitting on the pavement...well, I think I was more crumpled on the pavement. And out of her house...came my neighbor. (and here's the part I had to call my mom for, and the part where she asked "why" and I told her THIS story and she talked about "circles" and God) Her name was Maralene (did I spell that right mom?). She scooped ME up. Hugged. Inspected. Reassured. Hugged again. Got a cold towel for the scraped up knee. Gave me an ice cream sandwich. I don't think she said ANYTHING about my being a "rockstar"...but my memory is fuzzy, I could be wrong :) Righted my bike and sent me on my way (And again...don't worry 'bout the helmet deal. I wasn't wearing a helmet either...but that was 23 years ago, and we're smarter now so I'll find one for Brooke).
Yep...full circle. In even the smallest of ways...the smallest and the sweetest. I love my culdesac. And I love the music of the children that live there. You're right momma...God loves circles.