Written and Illustrated by
Wendy Leonard Dedicated to John and Emily
Thank You
◆
Jane Gilbert, editing
©Copyright 2007
◆
Mark Donaldson, design
Pale Pink Petals
O
n December 28,1991, our oldest son
John married Emily. One of their wedding gifts was a simple piece of 1x4 lumber
cut 20 inches long. It was the seat for a swing. There were two holes drilled near each end through which lengths of rope were threaded and tied off.
T
he heart of the giver was
revealed in a unique feature – a hand carved message, “Unless you change and become like little children ... Jesus.” I have never met the crafter and giver of this gift but have always loved him because his intent resonates with my spirit.
W
hen our son and new bride
decided that they wanted us
to become the gift’s custodians, I was thrilled.
T
hey lived in an apartment, but
fully intended to have a suitable tree in the near future. Fifteen years later we still have the swing.
N
ow John and Emily do
have trees at their home but swinging at our house is so embedded in their visits that they allow the swing to remain attached with a 50-foot rope to our huge old elm tree.
T
heir children – along with
many others – seldom leave our house without experiencing its gentle joy.
I
t is a highlight for visitors of
all ages. I sit and swing in it often.
W
hen people
come to my hillside wildflower garden, right next to the swing, they are always treated to a ride.
Even guests at luncheons and dinner parties are encouraged to hop on.
M
any have told me
swinging was the favorite part of their visit. They might say, “Up in your swing I felt like a child again...�
...or “I want to live more like the way I felt in the swing.�
T
hose who want to swing would do well to ask our son Toby to be their pusher.
He is unanimously acclaimed our best – his 6'7" height determines his ability. It’s just a matter of physics and his daring disposition.
A
strong push brings the rider out over the downward slope of the hill, where
the cares of the world seem to fall away.
S
omething happens high in
the air, at the crest of the
swing’s arc; one feels that right there is the place where true flight can begin – an infinitesimal nudge and you could be on your way.
H
oly hope rises with you on your flight through the
leaves and the singing birds, over
dashing squirrels and woodland wildflowers.
S
omehow... I believe the giver of this wedding present really did sign his name on his gift.