Sometimes it’s all in the plans

   I love it when a plan comes together. But sometimes, unexpected loops and folds make the end result even better. For example, my master summer plan for my granddaughters Kaylynne and Brittany included reading all the Caldecott Award books. Their master plan for me was to drive them to every dollar store in the county. We fell short on both counts, but at least did enough of each to find some favorites. After spreading 50 some books around my kitchen, they voted for Gerald McDermott as the best illustrator. After driving 500 miles around Gwinnett, they picked A Dollar at Oakbrook Parkway and Jimmy Carter Blvd as the best dollar store, with Wonder Dollar on Indian Trail running a close second.

   We didn’t do anywhere near all the activities I’d planned, but one excursion was really enhanced when Grandma Penny Brock took off work to join us for our white glove lunch at Vines. At Lilburn Park, the girls were invited to Vacation Bible School at First Baptist Church, so to make travel easier, they stayed with us for the whole week. 

   On the last day, I’d mentioned we’d be hosting four foreign exchange students who were touring with a group before returning home.

   “Can we stay and have an international slumber party?” Kaylynne asked.
How could I say no? But, always being the mastermind, I thought they might need some prompts to give them common ground for conversation.

   OK, for Theresa, I had some ornaments from Germany. For Sasinee, I had letters from a friend who was a missionary in Thailand. For Martina, I had travel brochures from my mother’s trip to Italy in 1968. But for Minttu, I could find nothing from Finland. Well, at least she’d spent the school year at Brookwood, so we had Gwinnett County in common, but I wished I had at least one thing that touched of home. It would make it so much easier for them all to relate.

   As it turned out, the girls didn’t need any of my micromanaging or meddling. For all my plotting and planning, they talked all night about music, clothes and Build-a-Bears. In fact, they never even looked at any of my stuff. But still, I felt my plan was incomplete because there was nothing in my pile from Finland.
The next morning as I was preparing breakfast, it hit me. On the bottom of each of my dishes is imprinted “Arabia Finland.” How could I have missed that?

   When Minttu entered my kitchen, before I could say a word, she said, “I can’t believe this. You have the same dishes as my mother! To think, on my last day in America, I’ll be eating breakfast on my mother’s dishes. You made my day!”

   “You made mine, too, Minttu.”

081005

Archive