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Jul 2, 2019

The Path to Trefoil Ranch

This morning Scout left for Oakcrest with some of her friends from the neighborhood. It's a 5-day church-oriented camp just for girls completing the 7th grade. She was reluctant to go even though my other girls have enjoyed this trip (except for Drama Queen).

Drama Queen helped me out today by driving me and Baby Doll up to Trefoil Ranch so she could enjoy Girl Scout Camp this week. She was nervous and excited about spending the time with her cousin. The trip was uneventful. Her drop-off time was 11:20, but we were a little late because of the construction, and that helped us miss the rush.

Grandpa was with us as well, and he and Drama Queen wandered after we got stuck in the health line waiting for the customary temp and lice checks. As we made our way into the Trading Post, Baby Doll's eyes lit up with the thoughts of each item that she could purchase with her cookie credits. I tried to gently steer her through to more practical purchases including a Trefoil hat.

We finally navigated our way to the last station, the one where she said a quick,"Goodbye!" and gave us each a big hug. As she threw her arms around her sister, I noticed that my Baby Doll wasn't a baby anymore. Maybe the hat made her look more grown up with her long pony tail trailing down the back. Or it could have been her incredibly long legs for an 8-year-old.


After a moment, she ran off to join her group without a single backward glance. I sent Grandpa and Drama Queen to the car while I made a quick stop in the restroom. As I walked alone back through the lodge and started down the long wide steps, my thoughts naturally slipped to my Baby Doll.

Then unexpectedly, with each downward step, I saw in my mind's eye a different girl, on a different day, in a different summer that just didn't seem that long ago. The same bright smiles, the same nervous looks; each one wearing a similar pony tail. Sometimes they were alone like Baby Doll was today, and sometimes they came in twos like Princess and Prima Donna or Teach and Drama Queen.

Eight different daughters, each following her own path over the footsteps of those that came before her. The realization was stunning and yet so natural to this mama's heart.

My eyes teared a little, or maybe it was that final step into the dusty parking lot, I'm not sure... suddenly, I felt very old.

1 comment:

  1. This was a heartfelt post, and I have had similar feelings at different moments. Of course, you had 8 daughters, and I only had three, but I can relate in a way.
    Blessings and hugs!

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