“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Sandi, smiling at our struggling son.
We walked toward the house after arriving home from the grocery store when Ian caught a glimpse of something. With no warning, he darted toward the miniature windmill on the other side of the forbidden and dangerous street. With one hand holding a gallon of milk, Sandi reached out with her free hand and effortlessly caught Ian by the arm as he sped past her.
“Nice catch,” I said, relieved that Ian was saved once more from danger.
Like all small children, James and Ian run toward the object of their interest without taking notice of their surroundings or possible danger. Like all parents of small children, we are always aware of our children’s presence, ready at every heartbeat to reach out and snag a young adventurer. We never know when the boys will make a dash, and we have to be vigilant.
“Nice catch,” we always congratulate each other as we keep our offspring safe.
Like our love for our children, our vigilance never wavers. It doesn’t matter if we are talking with other adults, watching fireworks on the Fourth of July, or simply out for a peaceful walk at the Overland Park Arboretum.
The boys love the arboretum with its miles of walking paths and they run along them with the exuberance of a colt in spring. On our first visit, though, the many brooks with their small waterfalls and rapids provided entirely too much interest for Ian. We walked toward the hill above the Water Garden where the brook running from the top of the hill has a very swift current. This current fascinated Ian and we had to restrain him several times to keep him from jumping into the stream.
Undeterred by his fascination, we walked up the side of the hill and stood on a piece of pavement over a stream, a bridge without railings, and looked down the hillside. This is one of the highest places in the arboretum and the view is pleasant as the stream winds downhill toward Wolf Creek. The current is at its swiftest here and the sound of the water rushing over the artfully placed rocks in the shallow stream added to our enjoyment. As I enjoyed the view, a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention and I automatically bent over to restrain Ian yet again, but he was too quick for me. He had already sat on the bridge, swung his feet over the side and scooted off toward the rapids in the stream. I was in motion, though, and caught his tiny arm just as his bottom left the bridge. He dangled for a few seconds, his feet inches above the current, as I braced myself, then hoisted him back to our side, still bone dry.
Sandi looked at me as I brought Ian back up to safety, her face pale, but relieved.
“Nice catch,” breathed Sandi.
Bill Bartlett leads a life of abundant blessings with his wife, Sandi, and their two sons in Belton.