Because they’re compassionate, like a pack of rabid, snarling wolverines

A boy (although shoot, I guess he’s a man now, although I hate to say that, because it makes me sound old, too) with whom I went to high school, runs a local ministry program that is part wilderness camp, part retreat facility, part youth outreach ministry group. Their camp facilities are on 40 acres, with a lake, about twenty minutes outside of town. This Christmas, they are hosting their first-ever “Christmas in the Barn” event, a combination live nativity and hayride, with lights, decorations, refreshments and storytelling. The entire evening is free of charge, and if you live locally, you should really consider going. I took the kids last night and I look forward to this becoming an annual holiday tradition for the Escoe family.

Now, although they certainly didn’t ask me to plug them on this site, I wanted to give you that little bit of background in order to tell you a story that shows off the empathy and kindness and caring of my children, my sensitive, compassionate children, because oh, they make me so proud. {wipes tear}

We were driving out to "Christmas in the Barn" last night, and like I said, it’s about ten or twelve miles outside of town. Out in the country. The very, very, very DARK country. Although the roads are paved and travel is certainly safe, there are no streetlights, or stoplights, or basically lights of any kind. Add to that the fact it was foggy here last night, and let’s just say it was two shades darker than pitch black outside.

As I was driving, I kept hitting my high-beams, hoping to cut through the fog a little better. Even though I know, even though I was TAUGHT in high school Drivers Ed, that you should never use your high-beams in the fog. Despite knowing that tried and true fact, I kept hitting the beams, thinking maybe *this time* I would be able to see a little better. The kids were looking out the windows, oohing and aahing over how dark it was, and commented on me hitting my brights every few seconds. So then I said, “Hey, you want to see something really cool? Watch this.” And I turned off my headlights completely.

They were simultaneously thrilled and freaked out a little because when I say it was pitch black, I mean, it was pitch black. So pitch black that I even got a little claustrophobic about driving like that, even for only a few seconds. So I hit the lights back on, telling them it wasn’t safe to drive without lights -- because you know me, everything is an educational opportunity! (she said sarcastically)

This is the conversation that followed:

Kendrie: “Why can’t you drive with your lights off? Are you more worried about driving off the side of the road or about hitting a bear?”

Kristie: “Um, I think hitting a raccoon would be more likely, but mainly I’m worried that if I can’t see anything, that means nobody can see me, either. Other cars wouldn’t be able to see us if I don’t have any lights on, so it’s just not safe.”

Kellen: “It’s not safe for people to be out in the road in the dark, either. Mrs. B (his previous teacher in Georgia) told us that on Halloween night, she was driving somewhere, and some trick or treater just ran out in the road right in front of her!”

Brayden: “No!”

Kellen: “Yes, and she said it was a good thing she was going slow, or she might have hit him with her car!”

Brayden: “That’s terrible!”

Kellen: “I know! Think of all the candy it would have wasted!!!”