Rejoice with me, I have found what’s lost

Here’s a photo of a bird, because this story has nothing at all to do with birds, but I don’t want to disappoint Barb.

So on Wednesday afternoon I drove south to give my grandson his piano lesson.  Let’s call him “Bigbro” (Big Brother).  Before the piano lesson, while he was having his post-summer-camp snack, I reminded him of what we already know.  He hates playing the piano.  He never wanted to take piano lessons.  His parents are mean.  I am the meanest grandmother ever.  All right; we’ve established these facts plenty of times, so can we just have the piano lesson now without any drama?  And we did!

Then Thing 1 and Thing 2 arrived home from their day-school, and after dinner I told them that dessert was OUTSIDE, because BigBro and Thing 1 and Thing 2 were already beginning to chase/hit/chase/yell/chase/pommel, and this is more tolerable outside.

Bigbro had brought home that day a very special camp-made bow and arrow.  Pretty nice, really.  Bow made of a bent tube with a sturdy string, and an arrow (with no point) that even had some little feathers attached.  Thing 1 sees Bigbro’s equipment and immediately covets it.  Greatly.  Snatches arrow.  Bigbro panics, goes on the attack; Grandma snatches Thing 1, also panicked, because if that arrow breaks before Bigbro has never even had a chance to launch it, there will be untold WAILING and GNASHING of TEETH.

But all is well.  Bigbro goes off to the spacious front yard and happily shoots his arrow, quite astounded at how well it flies.  My years of child-experience tell me that Things 1 and 2 now need something pretty cool themselves, so I check the top-of-the-fridge weapons arsenal—light sabers, plastic hatchets, The Claw, assorted water guns, pirate swords, and clubs—but no bows.  Inspiration!  I grab a sharp kitchen knife and head back outdoors, telling the boys we can MAKE bows.  We search for suitable branches.  Thing 1 runs inside and brings back a roll of dental floss.  Great idea!  Thing 2 brings out the 4′ long pruning tool and goes to work on a small cedar.  Perfect!  I start bending and shaping and carving.  One bow, one arrow—Thing 1 is happy.

I’m working on the second bow for Thing 2 when the inevitable happens: Bigbro has lost his arrow in the spacious front yard.  I begin a sector-by-sector search in the longish grass, while still winding dental floss around a slightly bent stick with the kitchen knife tucked under my armpit.  Eureka!  At the far end of yard, FAR AWAY from where Bigbro SAID the arrow would be, I find it!  Grandma is the hero!  Now I can notch Thing 2’s arrow and he’ll be good to go.

……no knife…..

whaaat?!?

It was right there, tucked under my arm!

Sheesh…

So I begin ANOTHER sector-by-sector search of the long grass.  Horizontally.  Then again, vertically.  Then again, horizontally—shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, back and forth, back and forth. The other Grandma comes out and begins her own search pattern.  The Father comes home from work and starts to look.  He offers the boys ONE DOLLAR to find the knife for Grandma.

I have a vision of a barefoot boy screaming in pain, a knife piercing his foot.  I have a vision of the lawn mower projecting that knife into an unwary bystander’s intestines.  I have a vision of me having to drive back here tomorrow with DH’s metal detector.  I pray.  The other Grandma says she is praying, too.

A neighbor on a walk with her two teenage girls asks what we are looking for.  And within TWO MINUTES, one of them calls out, “I found it!”  YAAAY!  Praise God!  Big hug!

But by now the boys have gotten interested in climbing trees, although the kind neighbor expresses concern about how high they are….20 feet? Hah!  Little do they know that the boys’ MOTHER at that age far surpassed that, with our knowledge and (were-we-crazy?) approval.

 

 

Suppose a woman has ten silver coins a knife and loses one it. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it?  And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin knife.’  In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.  Luke 15