Have you ever noticed the unevenness in a horse’s gait? I wonder what it is that causes it. They have an even number of limbs; one would think the clopping of their hooves would sound even as well, but instead there is a comfortable, syncopated rhythm in their stride.
The hoof falls of this beast, the one driving us this soft night, I will always remember. It is like a song to me, and for us, on this carriage ride – a first for each of us – the song moves us like a waltz.
Our younger child faithfully entertains us, and tonight, he is himself personified. He has that sort of personality – the sort where you need only look at him, and you laugh because his casual grin carries the reminder of a thousand funny statements, and it forecasts thousands more. So it is, as he sits across from us, casual grin beaming beneath twinkling eyes, that you and I glance at one another, and in mutual recognition, we laugh.
Our eldest, he is the sentimental one. Even as we roll along tired pavement, cracked and worn from the extremity of weather and countless tires and boots and hooves, I know his mind records every nuance, and this event will be retold in talks and journals and vibrant, Crayola illustrations. Such a kind, handsome, thoughtful one, he is. Where did he come from, exactly?
And there is you – chill written upon your cheeks, pink and real and energized. You cannot plan for a moment like this one. They simply happen of their own accord, sometimes with our plans, often in spite of them. It is times like these when your beauty is most apparent – in the frigid night, before the backdrop of all Heaven’s Christmas lights, in the abode of the surreal, and the quiet…quiet, but for those hypnotic hoof clops and our children’s endearing laughter.
This is the best moment of my life – not a large moment, not a moment witnessed by many, but we are here together, the four of us, and there is no pretense; there is no striving. And I feel fine. We are here together, and I feel fine.
Categories: Life, life events
Legionwriter 
Wow. You’ve captured a moment so beautifully. Such is the power of writing. Loved this.
Thanks, Carrie. That means a lot coming from you.
What a magical memory Luke! Keep it close in your heart and remember it when you get frazzled!
I’ll try!
This is so sweet. I like the way you start off writing about the gait of the horse and meander into a magical moment. Nice!
Thank you for reading and commenting, my friend.
Love the imagery. A beautiful moment, described in beautiful language. Nicely done!
Thanks so much for reading, Shelly.
Beautiful imagery, and heart felt statements. I love the way you love Carrie, and are able to express it so appreciatively. Some of your stuff is too deep for me, but this..this one is totally in my realm. magic!
Luke, Your beautifully written words just began my Christmas season of peace…Thank you!
Thanks, sweet Carlotta. Have a merry Christmas!
I agree with the others. Magical! I love your descriptions of your sons. It is our uniqueness that makes life so wonderful — your two boys are miracles!! And their impact on your life reaches further than you ever could have imagined. I do believe God knew what he was doing when he created kids.
I can only echo everyone here – magic. Pure magic.
Thanks, my Australian goddess.
Love the description of your kids.
Yeah, they’re kinda indescribable, but I still try. 😉
Actually, though as a parent I loved the portrait of the kids, I was talking more of your writing, Luke. It was Post a La Legion Writer, you at your best.
I read this and started daydreaming about how nice it would be to get in a carriage with my family, unreal as that would be.
I love inspiring daydreams. Thanks for reading!
Such a sweet moment. Especially since it happened in Leavenworth!
(Go Seahawks!)
Go Seahawks, indeed!
This is really lovely. I’ve had this in my inbox for over a month, because I knew it was about that delightful little kraut town in the Cascades. I figured you’d talk about what you saw there–and I guess you did, but in a really wonderful and unexpected way.
It makes my story about going to Leavenworth really prosaic: I got a T-Shirt that said, “You can sure tell a German, but you can’t tell him much.” I think your trip was cooler.
Thanks so much for reading and for the kind words. I’m a little jealous of your t-shirt. I came away with a lunch box and 3 extra pounds because I ate too much. 🙂