We entered the carnival’s midway, overwhelmed by noise and motion and excitement. My young daughter, Janae, approached the festival with all the joy and enthusiasm a 7-year-old can bring to such an occasion. She rushed forward, eager to test her mettle: was she braver than last year? Which thrills she would dare to try this time? She enthusiastically took on ride after ride, enjoying the tension, the whirlwind, the dizziness each new attraction brought her fledgling senses.
At the end of the midway was my own favorite ride: The Octopus. Four cars each on multiple arms, each car rotating wildly as the arms move the cars up and down, slowly at first, steadily increasing in speed as the world whirls by ever faster.
The previous year, I’d tried to convince Janae to go on the ride with me, but she was a little scared of its speed, and wouldn’t do it. Not so this year; this year she found her courage and bravely climbed into a car with me.
As the car began to pivot and the gather speed, I watched my daughter’s small face light up with amazement, gradually melting from the set face of bravery and determination to the wonder and delight of air swirling about her, hair flying in her face, as the ride gained in speed.
Unable to contain her joy any longer, she began to laugh out loud. And with childlike innocence, she threw her arms in the air and shouted, “Thank You, Jesus!” laughing with pure pleasure as the moment etched itself indelibly in my memory.
She is seventeen now, and only dimly recalls that day. As for me, it is my favorite recollection from her childhood: a flash of unadulterated bliss, captured in a short ride at the carnival. When I think of how, in her absolute joy, her first instinct was to thank Jesus for this incredible thrill, I can’t help but think how much He must have delighted in that moment, as well.
At the end of the midway was my own favorite ride: The Octopus. Four cars each on multiple arms, each car rotating wildly as the arms move the cars up and down, slowly at first, steadily increasing in speed as the world whirls by ever faster.
The previous year, I’d tried to convince Janae to go on the ride with me, but she was a little scared of its speed, and wouldn’t do it. Not so this year; this year she found her courage and bravely climbed into a car with me.
As the car began to pivot and the gather speed, I watched my daughter’s small face light up with amazement, gradually melting from the set face of bravery and determination to the wonder and delight of air swirling about her, hair flying in her face, as the ride gained in speed.
Unable to contain her joy any longer, she began to laugh out loud. And with childlike innocence, she threw her arms in the air and shouted, “Thank You, Jesus!” laughing with pure pleasure as the moment etched itself indelibly in my memory.
She is seventeen now, and only dimly recalls that day. As for me, it is my favorite recollection from her childhood: a flash of unadulterated bliss, captured in a short ride at the carnival. When I think of how, in her absolute joy, her first instinct was to thank Jesus for this incredible thrill, I can’t help but think how much He must have delighted in that moment, as well.
Janae and Lori at the 2018 version of the Volksfest.