I put cinnamon rolls in the oven and the little girls put on dresses and twirl to their hearts' delight. Then we gather up melon peels and scraps from last night's dinner and converge, a flurry of feet and boots and dogs.
We spill out into the sunshine, a gaggle of girls in dresses and jammies, spring air soft on our faces and dew drops a million diamonds beneath our feet.
Horses nicker deep for their breakfast and even the littlest helps carry hay to the pasture.
Then we are off to the chickens, who run to us clucking and cooing and chase melon peels and make us laugh. The littlest girl in the fancy dress tries to pet them all and holds her dress up too high as we walk back through the dew to a fragrant kitchen and warm cinnamon rolls.
Yes there were squabbles, moments when two little girls didn't want to share or a big girl had had enough of the noise or someone would rather play than do their chores. But most of the time there were girls who helped one another, who discussed cheerfully and decided on their own who would do what to clean the house, who sweetly tended to a tired little one, who laughed and shared and asked, "What can I do to help?"
Can this life please be mine? Could I someday live this farm life with sweet girls all together and a laughing, teasing Daddy? The years seem long and the path uncertain to bring a life like the one I lived this weekend. I love life with my one little girl but for a few days it was like a glimpse of something that feels so much like home. Patience and trust are hard lessons after tasting the sweetness of uncertain future possibilities.
