I went to Graves Mountain Lodge festival today, where I met Ben.
Graves Mountain Lodge is a short 20-minute drive from home, and has been a part of my life for about as long as I can remember. When I was growing up, our church youth group would go to Graves for retreats at least once yearly. I still remember 'old man Graves' standing in the dining hall, wearing his bib-alls. He was usually growling at us to eat all the food on our plates.
Anyway, this weekend Graves was having a festival. It was a beautiful day, so I spent some time there after lunch. For about an hour or so, I wandered among the booths set up, looking over jewelry and other wares. In the background, a bluegrass group picked and grinned. Nice time.
As I was leaving, a van pulls up beside my car. The sliding door opens, and I hear, "Hi, my name is Ben. I'm 3 1/2 years old" I turn to see Ben, strapped in his car seat. "Hi, Ben." I say. "My next birthday, I'm going to be four," says Ben, holding up the appropriate number of fingers. "And I'm going to be four for a long time." "That's wonderful!" I say, "How old will you be after that?" Ben replies quickly, "I think I'll be ten!" Ben's mom, getting out of the front seat, informs me that Ben (for some reason) really wants to be ten.
Graves Mountain Lodge is a short 20-minute drive from home, and has been a part of my life for about as long as I can remember. When I was growing up, our church youth group would go to Graves for retreats at least once yearly. I still remember 'old man Graves' standing in the dining hall, wearing his bib-alls. He was usually growling at us to eat all the food on our plates.
Anyway, this weekend Graves was having a festival. It was a beautiful day, so I spent some time there after lunch. For about an hour or so, I wandered among the booths set up, looking over jewelry and other wares. In the background, a bluegrass group picked and grinned. Nice time.
As I was leaving, a van pulls up beside my car. The sliding door opens, and I hear, "Hi, my name is Ben. I'm 3 1/2 years old" I turn to see Ben, strapped in his car seat. "Hi, Ben." I say. "My next birthday, I'm going to be four," says Ben, holding up the appropriate number of fingers. "And I'm going to be four for a long time." "That's wonderful!" I say, "How old will you be after that?" Ben replies quickly, "I think I'll be ten!" Ben's mom, getting out of the front seat, informs me that Ben (for some reason) really wants to be ten.
I think it's important to know exactly what you want. I want to be like Ben.
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