When It Rains

When it rains, and this is something I absolutely love about my sister, Melissa will corral all of the kids, strip them down and send them out into the world with a big smile on her face and her laugh filling the air. I can never seem to get them up and out with the enthusiasm she whips up. If it's a real good gully washer? All the better! Then they have a place to go and stomp and splash and squeal. They can march in lines up and down the street, yelling and hollering and pretending that they are in mortal danger. They can run under umbrellas and imagine that they are using magic forcefields or...well, who knows what happens in those little minds?

Most of the time, our kids are the only ones out in the rain. And Melissa and I never understand this. When we were kids, it was easier to find drippy wet, squealy playmates on a rainy afternoon than it was on a clear, dry day. I even remember running to the top of a hill at my Grandma's house with 3 or 4 of my Aunts so we could all wash our hair in the rain that flooded out of the gutter of an old building.

My children have learned from their Aunt that magic can happen when it rains.

And now that we are older, my sister and I, and the world has worn some of our shine off, we mostly just stand and watch and laugh together as our children fill their hearts with a magic and joy that once belonged to us too.