Tweet Many years ago, before scores of mosquitoes had taken over our land, and humans were able to walk the earth without the threat of West Nile virus, I took my (then) little girl for a walk. We went through the back yard, into the woods DEET free, and followed the trail that led to this beautiful little pond in a clearing in the middle of the woods.
The pond was clear and full of fish. There was a small boat holding hands with an old wooden dock, rocking gently with the summer breeze. I pointed out the tiny, one bedroom cabin, with its miniature porch and tiny windows.
I took the hand of my 4-year old daughter and led her across the clearing, closer to the edge of the water. I showed her a dragon fly dancing in front of us and asked her to listen to the chorus of frogs. And we stood, hand-in-hand, Mother and Daughter, amongst the natural beauty of God's world.
And then she screamed.
She screamed and screamed and pointed and screamed and I tried to ask this hysterical child what the Hector Ridorsky was wrong with her and she screamed, "Who would do such a thing?!" as she pointed to a group of cattails. "Who would put hamsters on sticks?!"