Friday, February 20, 2015

The Problem With Mustard Seeds

Ahh, if only there were this much variation to winter.

Morning Readers,

Oh, Winter.

What can you say about it except you wish it would die a thousand deaths and never return? Granted, last year's cold season was way worse and filled with ten times more snow, but being trapped inside all day is treating me about as good as it always does, and there's just not enough liquor in the world, my friends. Not enough.

But, even in the valley that is cabin fever, there are little peaks from time to time. Namely, me getting to run to the mail box by myself for sixty glorious seconds, drinking so much hot cocoa I'm pretty sure I have the diabetes again, and Sunday school.

Sunday morning goes a little like this:

Drop the twins off for their catechism hour.
Spend sixty minutes with Doc buying donuts and things I don't need at Target.
Pick twins up. Eat all the donuts. Get more diabetes.

Things usually go according to plan, except when they don't. Two Sundays ago, I got to dip my toes into the water that is feeling like a terrible parent.

As the hour ended and I walked through the door of the school, a worried teacher came up to me. "Hi Paige. We've been trying to call you for an hour."

"What? Why?"

"Sundance is very sick and needed to go home."

We rushed down the hallway in West Wing fashion, trading info as we went.

"She shut down the whole class. Said she was so sick, the other kids needed to get away from her in case she was contagious."

"I'm so sorry. I forgot my pho... Wait, she did what?"

"Seemed pretty serious."

"Maybe."

"No, I think it's bad. She's down here in the office."

Expecting to see her petite frame prostrate on the floor and burning up with the plague, I rounded the corner into the office and stopped short.

"Hi Mommy." 

The little blonde girl smiled up at me and went back to neatly coloring a picture so intently, I was sure she was saving it to turn in with her application to Harvard. 

"Are you sick?"

"Yes."

"You don't look sick."

"I might feel better now."

"Hmm."

She tucked the pictured under her arm and pranced back to the van, in anticipation of donuts. After we were buckled in, and Long Johns had been passed out, I decided to get to the bottom of what was going on. Most of the world is unaware, but Sundance has a giant flare for the dramatic. Just behind her blue eyes and elfin features lies an ability to make Hamlet look like and episode of Barney.

I looked around my donut. "Ok, what happened?"

She poked at some icing absently before she answered quietly. "I ate it."

"Ate what?"

"Umm... the mustard seed."

The pieces started snapping together. "You ate one of those blessed mustard seeds they brought back from Jerusalem?"

She nodded. "Please don't tell anyone. I just. I just- "

"Wanted to see what it tasted like. Ok, I get it. But why did you tell everyone you were sick?"

She looked down for a moment before she answered. "They said it would grow."

And there it was. "Ok, let me see if I've got this straight. You ate the mustard seed, and then your teacher told the parable of the mustard seed. After which, you were convinced a mustard tree would sprout out of you. Is that close?"

"How did you know that?"

"I'm old as the hills and twice as dusty."

So, while the rest of the school worried about poor Sundance, the truth of the situation was trapped in the van. One little girl sat, willing her faith not to grow so she wouldn't grow branches and be permanently rooted in the parking lot. 

The peaks of winter may be few and far between, but I'll admit that when I found out the truth, I was laughing so hard, I didn't even care about cabin fever. 
Until Next Time, Readers!
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