I try to keep my camera with me as much as possible. And, I take a lot of pictures. (Gotta love digital cameras.) But, there are those times when I don't have my camera, or it wouldn't be the same if I was trying to take a picture. I try to remember the situation with such detail that I feel like I do have a picture of it. I also try to write things down. On Sunday night Jeff needed help baling square bales and Henry and I went to help. Henry and I were on the rack, while Jeff drove the tractor. Jeff said I was welcome to drive the tractor, but the rows were short...and I'm not very good at pulling the baler and hayrack and turning and keeping up the speed and remembering to go over the hay so it gets picked up by the baler. Yeah, easier to pick up the square bales on the rack. So, Henry and I sang Farmer in the Dell and made a "barn" with the hay bales I was pulling off. There he was in his boots (see earlier post). He was so proud being a farmer and helping bale hay. That look, that face...etched in my memory forever.

I have to also tell you the story of our visit to my Amish friend Wilma when Henry was just one month old. Another one of those moments when cameras can't be used.

Because the only way to let her know we are coming is by mail, I wrote a letter to tell her that we would be coming on this particular Thursday in May. It wasn't far in advance as I couldn't plan any farther with a new baby. So, I sent the letter and just hoped all would be ok. We had a quilt to pick up.

Being it's a four hour drive and knowing we'd have to stop and feed Henry along the way, my friend Karen and I struck out early, aiming to arrive around noon. As we pulled up and started to unload, their eldest daughter Barbara came out of the house to help us. She invited us in and helped carry Henry. I don't know any other Amish families to compare, but this Amish family loves babies. As we came in the back door, several of the other girls were hustling around. (There were 12 children at the time of this visit, Wilma has had one more since then.) Wilma meet us at the step and took us into the living room. Because the house is so open you can easily see the kitchen. Trying not to snap my head, it was obvious that everyone was at the table eating. Father at the head, boys on one side, girls on the other. Oh, how horrible I felt...we had arrived at dinner time. I quickly apologized profusely and said we could come back later. They wouldn't have that. Wilma said they were done eating. She got our quilts and brought them to the living room. Barbara still has Henry. Karen and I both had our backs to the kitchen at this point, as we talked to Wilma and looked at the quilts. I was trying to concentrate so hard on the quilts, as I felt so bad about our timing. When I finally looked up from the quilt and turned toward where Barbara had been sitting with Henry, my heart stopped. All of the children, yes, all 12, had moved from the dining room table to the sofa and chairs. There they all sat quietly, waiting their turn to hold Henry. Father still sat at the dining room table, turned sideways and obviously listening to the conversation, but not joining in. I am welling up with tears as I write this. It was so precious. Teenage boys and girls, little boys and girls, each one waiting patiently. Barbara was obviously in charge of making sure each one had an opportunity to hold Henry. Ida, who was about 4 then, sat in this child's rocker, her bonnet on, her simple grey-blue dress, no shoes. As Barbara helped her hold Henry I wanted to take a picture so badly. This precious little girl holding my precious little baby. I even said to Wilma, how special this moment was and how I wished I could capture it forever. No one was in a hurry to get up and go back to work. I thought this was interesting, as usually when we visit, everyone has some job to do...children included. I later found out that this particular Thursday was a religious holiday for them. Although it was ok we visited, my great aunt said they would not have been able to accept money for the quilt I was picking up. (I had already sent her a check in the mail, so no money was exchanged.)

There are many more stories of our trips to Wilma's where I wish I could take pictures...Henry helping Suzy pick strawberries (red smeared across his face)...riding the pony with Junior...Mary, one of the twins, toting him around the farm...Henry sitting on Barbara's wagon watching them unload materials for the barn raising...

A picture is worth a thousand words.