Autumn Tradition and Growing Up

She sits there all teenager-ish on the wagon ride, sipping her hot chocolate, and I am distinctly aware that they're all seeming a lot older than usual. We visit this place almost yearly but this time all my children sit quietly, bumping along, arms resting on the rails, pointing out pumpkins and brilliant leaves shining in the sunlight. This time there were no tantrums in the corn maze, or crying because of the cold temperatures, or falling from the hay bales. There was only one bathroom break and one moment of begging for a treat. It's not until I'm at a location that I frequent only once every few seasons that the disparity between who they were last fall and who they are now is obvious.

I stand at the opening of the corn maze and in one minute they all race out exclaiming this is way too easy now and how the riding toys are too little. We just may be out-growing this place but I still savour the aroma of the freshly baked pies, choosing pumpkins and apples and taking photos in the crisp air. And as we load up our goodies and pile into the truck at the end of the afternoon, one by one they call out, "Thank you, Mommy for taking us!". I pull out of the driveway of this nostalgic farm and I'm thinking about how much they're growing up but also, how much this autumn tradition is still a sweet thing.

Autumn Traditions

Ooey-gooey, dripping caramel sweetness. Sometimes in Autumn, we'd pass by a fairground and my husband and I would pull in just so I could buy a caramel apple. Now that I've found this recipe, making my favourite treat will become a tradition. 

 I'm concentrating here to be sure my apple is becoming evenly coated with the caramel sauce. That makes all the difference, you know :)

 The reactions were hilarious.

 The excitement was building.

The final outcome was delicious and I like to think that underneath all of that sweet-once-in-awhile-treat lies a very good fruity excuse for keeping this Autumn tradition :)

It's Apple Time!

A small and local Escape bids us each September to come and reach to her branches, crunch her sweet fruit and romp in her playground. It's here we feel a little closer to Autumn and all it's gifts. As bitter as the farewell to summer can be for us, we welcome a new season of apple pies, zucchini bread, thick, rich soups, and warmer clothing (yes, my children wear uniforms--it cuts down on the laundry and lessens the morning clothing battle :)

 As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease. Genesis 8:22

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!



Made of Apples

My dear friend, Kim, once told me her son was made of apples. She meant that while she was pregnant with him, she ate apples like they were going out of style. He adores apples now too and she makes trips to the local apple farm a regular occurrence. This love for apples stems back to when she was a single woman, working downtown. She would take a bag of the red, juicy fruit with her as she walked along the street. Knowing their nutritious value and sweet flavour, she believed they would be a gift she could offer the homeless people of her city. She sought these needy ones out and cared for them the best way she knew how. Kim is an example to me of someone who reaches out to the homeless and shares with them a little bit of God's love.

We visited the apple farm yesterday with our cousins, and as the littlest girls ran up and down the rows of trees, I was thankful that this simple place held such pleasure for these children of ours. Filling the baskets in our wagons and crunching on the ripe fruit was memory-forming for them. This is a yearly highlight and it beats many other costly excursions. While we talk of autumn and harvesting pumpkins and such, they also hear of how this delicious fruit helped keep homeless people nourished and cared for. I share with them about my friend's act of love. As they get a little older, I will consider following this example by taking them downtown. This is how we will tell the people what we believe, not just with our words. I want my children to know that sometimes, God's love is made of apples.