Things I Learned From Laura Ingalls

Some afternoons I don't get too much farther than the front porch. Today was no exception. I've been on a Little House kick lately and the in the last few days have reread (for the who-knows-how-many-times) the entire Laura Ingalls Wilder series. If you know the books, you know this is no remarkable task. They read on probably a fourth grade level and it takes no time to fly right through them. I don't know what takes me back to these books from time to time. After all, I'm also very much into the fictional Mitch Rapp and his covert, modern-day political adventures courtesy of one of my favorite authors, Vince Flynn. Whatever takes me back to prairie days, however, never fails to put me in a reflective and peaceful state of mind. Maybe that's why I like it so well. Cheap therapy.

I finished The First Four Years today while eating a bowl of ice cream that hid a brownie at the bottom and checked my phone from time to time in case the oldest called. I thought of Laura and Almanzo and all the failed crops in those early years. They had a considerable amount of debt, endured the unexpected death of a three-week old baby boy, and lost their home to a fire. Last night my husband patiently listened over a basket of chips and salsa while I recounted some of my favorite Laura stories. Most notably was the time of Laura and Almanzo's courtship in These Happy Golden Years. While teaching for two months at a claim school twelve miles away from her home, Almanzo made a weekly trip to bring Laura home on the weekends. On one particular occasion, he sat with his horses looking at a thermometer that read forty-below with an open, snowy prairie before him. While considering what he should do, a friend rode up beside him and seeing his predicament, simply stated, "God hates a coward." That settled it and off Almanzo went to bring Laura home.

I thought of my husband today as I stretched out on the swing he made me some fifteen years ago for our fourth anniversary. He worked late every night for a while building it while I complained late every night about him never being home (having no idea what was keeping him from home). That swing has since followed us everywhere we've went and neither one of us are blind to the fact that it is a perfect fit on the porch we now have. He built it long enough so that I could nap on it (he knew me well even then) and the quilt that has been on it for some time now once belonged to my step-grandpa. If you don't mind the dust and pollen on the floor, you can look up from the bottom and see a hand-carved message that means as much to me now as it did when I first saw it.

What does all this have to do with Laura and Almanzo? I honestly have no idea except for the fact that I can appreciate a good love story anytime I read one. And to me, a marriage that withstood the test of droughts and blizzards and sickness and debt is one to celebrated. If I am learning anything through this life as I know it so far, it's that marriage is not for the faint of heart... kinda like prairie life in the Dakota Territories during the late 1800s. It takes steadfast determination to make it through the difficult times and a thankful heart to appreciate the good times.

A front porch swing and a set of worn out paperbacks doesn't hurt either.

Happy 46th Anniversary, Mom and Dad.