Today I joined twenty other people of many ages to build a dragon. It began a week ago with a team of project leaders who had brought the supplies and designs to direct whomever showed up. I busied myself sewing golden wings, painting paper mache foreheads bright red and cutting crowns. We elected to name the seven heads. Beelzebub, Legion, and
Gollum took shape, and perched on bamboo poles they lunged and snapped their hinged jaws. The undulating body followed behind, propped up by two men, hidden beneath the rippling scales.
An added treat was the conversations that sprang up while our hands were busy. It's one thing to chat with a coffee cup in your hands after church, or to wave as you drive by on a quiet street. But when you are slopping paint elbow to elbow, words come.
I
conversed with half a dozen people, some in a lighthearted way, others teary. It was remarkable really, to connect in a genuine way over brushes and foam.
Marriage is a marathon of working together. As I write John is finishing up the taxes, a task made easier when I have the receipts and bills in the right folders. Couples who raise children cannot escape the commitment of muddy hands and jelly faces.
God knows this. Working side by
side is a better glue than all the ritzy dinners in Paris.
