The Tracks Tell The Story

When I was growing up, we lived in Northern Colorado. I have an aunt who is one year older than I and Kathy and I grew up like we were sisters. We often played in the forest near her house in Fox Park. We built a fort just at the edge where we could see the house. But, Kathy, being much more adventurous than I, always wanted to go "exploring" deeper and deeper into the woods. Sometimes we would see tracks where squirrels, deer, elk and sometimes even bear had been. I was almost always afraid, but Kathy, (also more imaginative than I), would make up wild tales and before long we were adventurous, pioneer women, setting off into a brave new world, looking to either conquer or befriend anything or anyone we met. She pretended to "read" the tracks and off we went, no longer afraid, but very brave and courageous. The tracks told the story and we got the experience.
Today, all five of my grandchildren have gone home or are on their way. There are tracks all over my house, sticky fingerprints on the refrigerator, kiss marks on the mirrors, and little footprints on the tile. There is not a place in my house that has not been explored or hidden in. There is not a sticky food that has not been consumed and/or worn. Aunt Kathy could probably look at these tracks and tell you which sweet little mouth kissed which mirror and which precious little hand touched each window and which adorable feet walked through each room. And if she looked at them closely, she would also see these tracks tell a story. They tell you of big boy, Morgan (age 5) and how he lined his cars all up in a row, based on make and model. They tell how Madi (age 4) and all girl, tried on the princess dresses over and over and how she pretended to paint grandpa's fingernails. They tell how Matthew (age 3) carried around the Cars dvd and his cup and how Kyle (age 2) rode the little bike from room to room, carrying the toys in the basket and asking for chocolate milk. They would also tell how baby Austin (age 1) would give grandpa kisses in exchange for bites of homemade fudge and how he'd come running whenever the word food was mentioned. These tracks would tell the story of four generations meeting in one home to celebrate together. They would tell of gifts given and love received. They would tell of a killer game of hand and foot, x-box competitions and naps. They would tell of food, food and more food. Mostly these tracks would tell you that love was here. They would say that gathered under this roof, the two great grandparents, two grandparents, four parents and five grandchildren, had much to be thankful for.
I have not decided whether to clean every surface or leave some of the "tracks" as reminders that love lives here and the story these tracks tell says love and blessings are abundant, shaken down and running over. The tracks told the story and I got the experience. God is good and I above all women and extraordinarily blessed!!! I hope each of you had a wonderful holiday and have the tracks to prove it.

Gratefully,
Neva