the creek

we moved to a small town just in time.

 at our old home we could not leave anything outside for one night. it would absolutely be gone the next day. once a neighbor who was sick of the theft installed a camera on his home. this neighbor came to visit us one day, "are you missing a cooler that was on your porch?" yes, we were. he pointed to the home of a different neighbor. "those guys took it." i walked over there later and knocked on that door- sure enough i saw a stash of items including our cooler with riley family written across the top. they begrudgingly gave it back while i awkwardly tried to give them an out, "if we ever mean to give stuff away we'll put it on the curb with a free sign." 

a year after we moved i was feeling really nostalgic so i took the kids back to visit mike from across the street. catching us up on neighborhood news, he told us the story of his truck getting stolen by armed drug dealers. he also shared about a near attack by a gang when he was walking back from the subway sandwich shop. he'd avoided being mugged, he said, by jumping a fence where a big, scary dog lived and making friends with the dog. after that visit the kids sort-of stoped talking about wishing we had our old house.

 i may have shared the story of the oranges. if not, i'd better write it down as i remember it now because it's been caught up and retold with embellishments as family folklore. by the next time i think to write it who knows how far-fetched it will sound.

 i sent the boys, liam and ossi, with a $5 bill to buy a bag of oranges. to get to the vendor we frequented they needed to walk through a church parking lot. the boys were pretty little but i knew that they needed this tiny victory. i waited on the porch while they were gone and resisted the urge to shadow them.

 minutes later they came running back, totally shaken. i asked them what had happened and they said, "a group of big kids were there and they were not nice!" the boys reported that the big kids had told them things like, "you shouldn't be out here alone and we're going to take those oranges from you so you never come back," and "DHS is coming to take you away from your stupid mom."

 liam wept, "they called you stupid!" he was young enough not to think your mama jokes were funny at all.

 "that's it!" i said, and i told the boys to go inside and wait. and off i ran with the bag of oranges in one hand and my other hand balled in a fist. i remember i was wearing a skirt and bare feet.

 i rounded a corner and saw a group of kids, they looked like 6th graders. one screamed, "she's got oranges!!!" and they all ran like thunder. only i was lightning.

 i caught a straggler by the shirt, spun him around and ordered, "call your friends back."

 "guys! she got me!" his voice cracked. and they timidly turned, totally terrified.

 their punishment was an impassioned pep-talk about their importance to the neighborhood culture and their role as the guardians of the children younger than them. there may have been a parting threat to track down their moms and tattle if i ever caught them at it again.

 now my boys are among the guardians of the neighborhood. 

 only in this neighborhood the most obnoxious crimes perpetrated by the gangs of boys are things like the poaching of plums from the neighbor's tree before they are plump enough. the neighbor says, "it's okay if you eat them but, by golly, wait until they are ripe!"

 we're still careful about theft here but the bikes have survived whole nights outside, believe it or not.

 if matt and i could have designed a childhood setting for them, the one we wanted the most, we would have picked this very one. in one direction a quick bike ride's distance to the saturday market, farm fields to the north, a school opposite the street, and the faithful creek.

 on the side of my blog i've long left one of my many pep-talks, "Life can be ridiculously happy and fun, no matter where that life is taking place, or how. Big city or small town, with or without children, married or single, we can be happy."  can i be allowed an amendment?

 i used to believe that the key to a successful life was to bloom where planted. 

 but i killed a camellia bush last summer planting it in the direct sun.

 what i've found is...

 we can't choose everything. but we can choose some things.

 and children, with their tender leaves and branches and their little lives taking root, grow better in fertile soil. 

our old home was like a greenhouse pot. inside those walls we did our best to keep them safe and sound. and now that it's time to begin a transplant to the great outdoors i'm so glad for the flourishing foliage near the creek.