The Gathering

 

The ride is beautiful, everyone agrees. The fall colors are prime, it is warm, and no clouds cover the clear blue firmament.

This is some drive.

Yes, but it’s so beautiful.

Yes, it is, but we’ve been on the road an hour.

Are we there year?

Just a little longer.

The twists and turns are challenging at 55 mph, but fun. The two vans from the city grow weary. The one van from the country feels the afternoon road trip too short.

The colors are beautiful. Hey, look, there’s a good shot.

Take it, now, take it … aww…

Just wait … after that tree.

It’s ok. There will be lots more shots. Just keep your eyes open.

Hey, Dad, that’s the place we went fishing.

Yup.

I want to see the barn. Last time we came, I didn’t get to see the barn.

You didn’t.

Nope.

I’m sure we’ll get the tour.

The driveway is hidden and easy to miss. Gravel twists and climbs through orange and red until the magnificent modern brick manor appears, level and welcoming.

Nothing big, fancy or huggy, just the simple hellos and boy-aren’t-the-ladybugs-bad-todays. Non-invasive, simple, friendly.

Sitting and talking doesn’t come until after the walk in the woods.

Wood turtle

Tree frog

Salamanders!

Frog

Fleeing buck

More salamanders

A lesson in fruit loops (the sassafras tree)

Sycamore

Beech

Oak

Maple

A stream

Leaves and mud

Fallen branches

Ferns – lots of ferns

Salamanders – lots of salamanders

Hey, let’s find a snake!

The old log cabin – 1845 German newspaper – researched back to the 1930s – barn gone – outhouse still standing

Dead turkey

Dead possum

The walk back

Time for drinks

The last of them arrives and the charcoal gets started. They bunch and spread, catching up with news, trying to help. The children play in the barn and on the slide. The Gathering is complete.

Can I help?

No, I think I have everything. Thank you for bringing the bread, by the way.

You’re welcome.

I assume you baked it yourself.

You know me.

Yes, I do.

This is a new group. They all know each other, but this is the first time these four families have spent time together: a new combination.

I think everything is done.

Great.

Get the kids.

We’ll pray in the kitchen.

They stand around waiting. The boys take bets on how many hot dogs they can eat. One mom worries about the bees. One mom worries about the ladybugs. One mom worries that she may have offended someone. One mom worries that there will be enough to eat.

The dads help with the waiting. The last clean-handed child emerges from the bathroom. The most spiritually confident among them leads in the dinner prayer.

Come Lord Jesus

Be our Guest

And let these gifts

To us be blest.

Amen.

Oh, give thanks unto the Lord

For He is good

For His mercy endures forever.

Amen.

The bravest of the hungry go first. These are males between the ages of seven and sixteen.

Do you want a pickle?

Wow, Mom, look how big those pickles are!

Yum. Everything looks so good.

Your mom’s bread is my favorite.

Mine is the brats.

Mom, can I have another pop?

Some find chairs inside, unwilling to brave the ladybugs.

Sit by me.

That’s my place.

Here, sit here. I’ll move over there.

The adults move outside.

Watch out for lady bugs, they taste terrible.

Oh, thank you for that thought.

Wow, the sun is really bright. Looks like you got the good seat, Mom.

The four babies get the toddler picnic table. They talk and act grown up. No one understands what they are saying. Moms hover nearby for spills.

So you did all the stonework yourself.

Yeah. I brought it up from the old cabin.

You did a nice job.

Thank you. It’s not done yet. I haven’t worked on it since I broke my arm. She won’t let me in the woods for more than an hour by myself anymore.

She’s worried.

Yeah, I know.

They excuse themselves for second helpings. Some check up on the inside eaters. Some clean up. The babies are sharing their food. One eats only catsup. One is eating all the hot dogs left on the table.

What is in this coleslaw?

I don’t know, but it’s good. My daughter made it.

Onion?

Yup. There’s onion in there, but something else.

I hope it’s not horseradish. Her grandfather turned her on to horseradish.

It is horseradish. It’s very good.

Actually, it’s horseradish mustard. I’m sorry about the horseradish.

No. No. It’s very good. Can I have the recipe?

During clean up the moms discuss family relationships good and bad. One mom gets upset and the others are compassionate and embarrassed at the same time. A dad enters and the subject is changed.

The sun begins its decent. The bon fire is started out by the barn. One of the babies loves fire. All the moms watch her. Some go to the trees to cut roasting branches. One dad is already roasting and burning marshmallows. One son lets them flames until they are engulfed, them blows them out. One gifted among them creates the perfectly golden-brown marshmallow.

Let’s frame it.

I like them burnt to a crisp.

Hey, you can’t leave until you have a smores.

I’m stuffed.

Too bad.

Okay.

The boys hang around long enough to eat their fill, then they are off to play basketball in the barn. The babies are getting tired. It’s getting dark. The stars are coming out. One family must leave, and the others follow one by one.

Where are my shoes?

Don’t you have them on?

No.

You were walking around the bonfire without shoes?

(embarrassed laugh)

Hugs and farewells. See you tomorrows and drive safes. The city vans drive into the clear starry darkness and toward home.

The last family, the country van, stays a little longer discussing tractors, barns, coffee, and the property. The host wants to put in a straight driveway to another road to avoid the steep snowy hill in the winter. Scary stories are shared of sliding down slippery snowy drives – second by second replay. Stuck-in-the-snow-forever stories are swapped wit the-worst-snowstorm-ever events. The baby needs a bath. Good-byes. We must do this again. The Gathering covenant is made.

The moon is following us.

Looks that way, doesn’t it?

Where did it go?

Behind that hill.

There it is!

The moon is playing peek-a-boo, Mom.

Pe-ya-oo.

The baby speaks. The company of the country van laughs.

Late at night, a mom writes a thank you note to the hostess out of gratitude for lives shared, and for all her work in creating

The Gathering.

(circa 2004)