I tell them often, “you’re never going to tell your grandchildren about the most epic day you spent on screens.” Scrape your knees, catch a minnow with your hands, pee behind the barn, eat wild blackberries till your belly hurts, run barefoot, catch fireflies, get stuck in a tree and call for me to help you down, talk to animals, fly a kite, build a fort, grow something, jump around pretending the ground is hot lava, make a hotel for ants, write “fart” and “butt” with a stick in the dirt, take something apart to see how it works – I don’t care. But live all the days of your childhood, because you just get it once. Childhood is something we protect fiercely around here. Those 18 summers. Those days slipping through our hands like grains of sand, one by one. Planting seeds in their hearts that we hope will keep them coming home long after the summer of childhood has ended. It’s not a popular message anymore, but in our eyes it is a worthy fight. ☼
Madison