John and I left a vase of flowers for a couple in their driveway a few weeks back. It seemed like the path they would take coming home, but in reality they did not see it. For two weeks. By then the petals had wilted, and the card had blown away. It was not a pretty sight. 

 

But when the wife discovered it, she sent a message thanking us, and inviting us to come for a visit on their deck. We arrived with a fresh bouquet, and followed their very welcoming sons to the porch, where they demonstrated the clever train track they were building. Instead of being rigid, like the wooden ones my brother had, it was as flexible as a spine. If only real tracks could be so accommodating. 

 

We chatted with the couple between the urgent needs of their children, whether it was to pull up the zipper on a caterpillar costume, or answer a question about dessert. I was enchanted. They treated us to a front row seat to their prowess on wheels, while their mother calmly tightened the strap on the younger son's helmet.

 

Our conversation gained momentum when the kids were busy on a tire swing in another part of the yard, until the older boy reported that his parents must come see his brother. Their mother was as flexible as the track, when she suggested that he take their dad's phone and record a video of the event. It worked, and we four enjoyed three interrupted minutes. 

 

As the dark settled in their mother used one of many tactics to get them ready for bed. 

 

"Surprise me about which pajamas you pick!" They were off, and since the windows upstairs were open to the late summer warmth, we heard their loud reports of who was intruding on whom in the bathroom. She smiled and offered suggestions for inter familial cooperation. 

 

It seemed like the right time to say goodbye, and we went on our way home. I savored the chance to observe parents doing a remarkable, and flexible job of guiding their precious children to beautiful places.