Wedding Photography | Wes + Briana

So here's the story of how I shot my second ever wedding last weekend.

But first... A little about the couple. Wes and Briana are two of the sweetest people I've ever met. They are giddy in love which makes them super fun to be around, but also fun to photograph. There is no substitute for true emotions when working with a couple! They are kind, and happy, easy-going, adventurous, and romantic (oh, so romantic!), and there is a genuine Christ-centeredness about them that just rubs off on those around them.  When photographing their engagement last Summer I was immediately impressed to see the way Wes has such a gentleness about him with Bri. I adore the way they look at each other with such tenderness. Ah, young love!  So, I was really really excited to photograph their wedding day. I knew going into it, that we'd have a great time working together. And although the day wasn't without a few hang-ups (more on that in a second), overall it was a great day!  The ceremony was so touching (I cried. twice.) and God-honoring, and the reception was celebratory and fun.

Wedding photography is not for the feint-hearted, my friends. You have to be organized, comfortable bossing people around, know how to delegate, think on your feet, and literally stand on your feet for 10 or more hours. It's kind of my favorite! Like an all-day adrenaline rush. :) And since nothing can be perfect, if I didn't mention the minor set-backs I'd be remiss.

So the morning of the wedding I got a text from the Bride - it seems the night before, one of her teeth had been knocked out! You read that correctly, a tooth KNOCKED OUT. The night before her wedding. I would have died! It's literally my worst nightmare! I can hardly think of anything more horrible which doesn't involve death.  Thankfully, she was able to have it fixed at an emergency dentist appointment on Saturday morning.

Then, as they were getting ready, the bridesmaids were using a steamer on their dresses. Somehow the heat from the steamer set off the central alarm system of the church. We're not talking smoke detector here. We're talking a blood-curdling screech that makes you want to cry and flashing lights all over the building. And nobody knew how to turn it off. Again, thankfully, I knew who to call (my Dad) to get instructions on how to open the alarm panel and disarm it.  But not before I got knocked over by one of the groomsmen and nearly had a toe broken by someone else. Fact: people act stupid when alarms are sounding. :)

Then the Bride arrived at the church an hour late because her hair took longer than planned, which of course delayed things. We were scheduled to start shooting at noon. We actually started Bridal portraits at 1:45. No bueno.  But we managed to get the men ready sooner and do some of their photos first so at least we got most of the planned shots.

However, we thought all was not lost because Wes and Bri planned to do the majority of their photos and the wedding party photos at the reception venue outdoors. So we presumed we'd get the rest of the shots then. Oh... but no. We drove to the reception with sunny blue skies. Then strangely, out of the clear blue (literally) a thunderstorm randomly popped up directly over the venue. As I got out of my car, it started pouring. And it didn't stop raining for 20 minutes. Incidentally, those were the only 20 minutes we had to do outside photos.  So when it finally slowed to a drizzle we rushed to grab 1 pose of the wedding party (we were already super late to the reception), and then I gave myself 10 minutes to work with the Bride & Groom alone. Talk about stressful!  That was worst part, in my opinion, having so many ideas and have NO time to work. I'm happy to say we did capture a few really beautiful photos despite it all.

It's funny, to hear all the things that went wrong you'd think I'm crazy to chose to do wedding photography at all. Too much stress, too many bad things can happen. But that's just it. It's exciting and beautiful! There are also so many things that went right. And so many reasons that I love it. And I think I'm just crazy enough to want to do it again and again.

Congratulations to the newlyweds, on your marriage, and a beautiful wedding day! Thank you for trusting me capture your special moments!

Follow this link to see more of Wes & Briana's Wedding Album on Facebook.

He is risen, just as He said!

The kids had 3 egg hunts in 2 days. They were given, and consumed waaaay more candy that should be humanly possible. We managed to take a few family pictures. But I'm laughing so hard at the shots that ended up being the "best" from the batches. We did most of the usual Easter stuff... lunch and egg hunt with the cousins at GG & P-pa's house after church, then evening egg hunt and dinner at my parents' house with my other grandparents. It was a beautiful afternoon - finally a warmish day.

This is so funny to me because of Elijah's face. What is that??

I have lots of thoughts for this Easter post and I'm having a hard time collecting them all into sentences.

It has been a busy, fun weekend. And I have an overwhelmed feeling of gratitude for all the spiritual blessings in my life. This has been a season of growth for me (and my husband too) and of a greater awareness of God's working among us.  Sometime soon I hope to be able to articulate it. But as for today, it seems the perfect time to mention briefly that the theme of New Life in Christ is so fresh and sweet to me. God is good. He has shown me the most amazing kindness. And I am swimming in an ocean of His lavish grace. Amen? Hallelujah! What a Savior.

We ended Easter Sunday by watching the last of The Bible series on History Channel. Perfect way to cap it off, I think. With a reminder of the Savior's love and His holy sacrifice for us, which fully satisfied the wrath of God toward sinners; conquering death, and hell, and sin.  Happy Resurrection Day. He is risen, just as He said!

On The Stairs

So, yesterday morning they boys were caught playing in the stairwell. This is not allowed in our house because the stairs are open on one side and they could be hurt if they fell over the edge. But when I saw how cute and loving they were being with each other, in stead of punishment for disobeying the rule, I told them to hold it right there while I grabbed my camera. The light was so pretty in their eyes, they were in good moods, being nice to each other, and relatively confined. So it was a perfect photo-op.  Sometimes the stars just align. But not often. :)

In other news, we are over a week into Spring and this dang weather still thinks its Mid-January. Enough already!! WE WANT TO PLAY OUTSIDE! Two days ago it snowed all morning and afternoon. Today its's 38 degrees. This just will not do for the very end of March. No sir.

Oh, terrible flu.

On Sunday afternoon, a week ago, my sweet little Zeke woke up from his nap with a high fever. He was lethargic, whimpering, and obviously felt like crap.  That night he threw up in his bed, but never cried, so I didn't know it until morning.  I was so upset for being such a neglectful mom - not even knowing that my little one was sleeping in a puddle of his own vomit all night - waking up sticky and covered in it. Poor baby!  That evening at supper he did it again - all down the front of Manny - at the dinner table. (fun for everyone!)

Two days later Manny had the same symptoms. Minus the throwing up, lucky him.

Two days after that I felt fine on my way to morning Bible Study, then on the way home it hit me like a truck.  And by the time I walked in the door at home, it was all I could do to stand.  Thankfully, it was naptime for Zeke and Elijah was willing to watch cartoons all afternoon next to my bed while I shivered and ached and wondered if I would surely die.  Bless my sweet Elijah's heart, he took such good care of me. He went out to the car and got a bottle of Advil, brought it back to me with a drink of water, and kept checking on me, gently touching my cheeks and saying "I love you, Mom.".  What a comfort he was to me. Precious boy.

Sadly, Elijah came down with it worse than any of us in the middle of the night that night.

I changed the bed linens 3 times - until there were no more clean sheets or pillows to use. Poor buddy tried so hard to make it to the bucket in time, but missed (Boy, did he miss!). He ended up sleeping on top of towels and using a tiny baby blanket to cover. The fever was so high the next day that I thought something might be terribly wrong when he was talking nonsense, looking "through" me with glazed over eyes, and couldn't hold his cup.  It turns out he was only talking in his sleep, but he gave his Mommy a good scare.

{This stuff was a life-saver!}

Thankfully, the bug is gone now and we're all feeling back to almost normal. It's strange how weak I am now after missing 2 weeks at the gym.

On the bright side, every bed linen we own has now been laundered, so Spring cleaning is well underway.

Speaking of Spring... come on with it! I'm SICK of this relentless cold and dreary snow.

The Bestest

Every Sunday evening (as often as possible) our family gets together for food and great fellowship with our very dear, special friends, the Matthews.  We truly are kindreds, having the same desire for our families to follow the Lord, and I always leave feeling more blessed by having them in our lives. Our children {our 2 and their 6} adore one another, which is an added bonus.  I love how much they love each other and play so beautifully together. There are always a few tears shed when it is time to head home and immediate talk of how many days until we get to do it again.

It reminds me of my own childhood.  When I was young, my parents' were best friends in the world with the Bolands; Phil and Jennifer. They had 3 kids, all around my brother's and my age, and we were all best friends too. I have the warmest, happiest memories of the times our families spent together.  So having that type of friendship for my boys is very special for me to see.

Last time we were together I snapped a few photos of the kids.

Here's Lundon, 9 years old, the eldest son so he's great with the little ones. He's kind and loving and looks out for everyone. And the little one is Titus, almost 4.

Titus, almost 4. Totally a mini-Chris. Best dancer I've ever seen in a 3-year-old!

Moses, almost 8. Amazing artist, strong, tough, loving and responsible.

Bella Rose, 5 and 1/2{she is 2 months and 2 days older than Elijah and he LOVES, loves, loves this girl. He says she is his very best friend.} 

I mean, seriously. Look at that personality! This girl has spunk and fire. I pretty much love her too! 

And the littlest one, Elias, I had the priviledge of watching come into the world.

He's 4 months old. 

This is Ainsley, the eldest, 10 years old. She's quiet and smart, and loves to read.

We are beyond thankful to have these friends in our lives. I have come to treasure our time together as we learn more about each other, pray for one another, and encourage each other in the Faith. :)

Merry Christmas 2012

Elijah, age 5(and almost a half), Zeke age 2(and almost a half)

After 3 failed attempts to take photos of my boys together, we managed to steal their attention for about 60 seconds after church last week.  This is the result. Also, I designed and created the card ALL BY MYSELF!  I'm kinda proud of this, my first attempt at anything graphically designed.  So Merry Christmas to all. With love from my family.

Ho Ho Ho?

 

This little happy Christmas elf, I'd like to report, is doing very well with his speech therapy.  "Ms. Trina" still comes every week to play with him for an hour. And since they started in September I've seen huge improvement. When they started he used about 5 words regularly, today he is at about 35 and is putting together 2-word phrases. 

Its funny how different my boys are!  I often think about Elijah at this age (not quite 2 and a half) and remember so many real conversations we had. By this age he was using full sentences, memorizing scripture verses, talking about big and complex ideas.  And my little Zeke, though I know those big ideas must still be in there somewhere, he can't seem to find the words to get them out.  No wonder he was so frustrated when he couldn't verbalize.  I'm just very thankful he's found a way to ask for what he wants most of the time. Improvements are happening, slowly but surely.

And yes, he can say "ho ho ho", just in time for Christmas. :)

Quiet Evenings

Since Manny has been working evenings for quite a while, the boys and I have developed a pretty nice pre-bedtime routine. After a supper and baths, they get in their pjs and we hang out (sometimes in Mommy's 'big bed') reading books or playing cars, or trains, or whatever catches their attention.  Tonight's reading selection included some favorites: The Big Red Barn, Goodnight Moon, In The Tall, Tall Grass, Pano (the train), One Fish Two Fish, and Are You My Mother?.  Audience members tonight included: Little Duck, Meduim Duck, White Duck, Red Angry Bird, and Red Angry Star Wars Bird. They were expecially cuddly and sweet with each other so I grabbed my camera and snapped a few. These quiet moments are kind of rare.

Mommy-Son Date

My handsome 5-year-old and I got to have a wonderful date together this afternoon!

We've been so looking forward to this outing for weeks. It's his first time at a live orchestra concert!  He has been listening to a CD of the Evansville Philharmonic every day in the car for about 2 months now, and the opportunity for him to enjoy the music live is SO exciting for him! (and me!)

So after lunch we headed downtown to the Victory Theater with great excitement and lots of chatter about what we would experience (Elijah questioning my navigational abilities all the way).  In case you wonder, I am HORRIBLE about driving downtown, but I did not get lost or even miss a turn. Yay me!  The day was sunny and perfectly warm, so we enjoyed walking the several blocks together hand-in-hand (he was my date, after all).

In the lobby of the theater, about to take our seats.

I decided a Pops concert would be most appropriate for Elijah's first time at the Philharmonic.  It seemed that would hold his attention best, being a little more contemporary.  This happened to be "A tribute to the Beatles", an amazingly realistic Beatles impersonation group accompanied by full orchestra.

And what a show!  It was so much fun, and the "Beatles" played their parts with astonishing accuracy.  During the first set they ran out on stage in the black suits with skinny ties, tight pants, and the sideways head-bob we are all so familiar with from their appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.  It was uncanny.  Elijah and I have watched that video on youtube a dozen times, so when they bounced onto the stage looking and sounding JUST like the real John, Paul, George, and Ringo he practically shouted to me, "MOM! Look it's the Beatles!! I can't believe this!"  Of course they performed the favorites from that appearance too: I Want to Hold Your Hand, She Loves You, All My Lovin', and Till There Was You.

The second set was straight from "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" and the "Magical Mystery Tour".

Elijah got a little bored toward the end, during the "Abby Road" and "Let It Be" set because he wasn't familiar with the music. But considering his age, and that he sat still for over 2 hours, I think he did very well.

After the concert we continued our date at G.D. Ritzy's for a couple of ice cream cones. Chocolate for him, mint chocolate-chip for me.

His review of the concert: "It. was. awesome."

And of the ice cream: "The best ice cream I've ever had."
This, I'd say, was a successful date.  Time with my boy is always time well spent.

Cheers.

Saying Goodbye to Annie

The last week of March 2006 I went to Texas to visit my Grandparents for a week.

A few weeks earlier a sweet black and white Boston Terrier showed up in their yard. Someone had found her wandering the neighborhood and mistook her for Grandma's dog, Josie.  Grandma took her to the vet to have her checked for a microchip, but there was none. They called the humane society and other vets in town to see if anyone reported her missing.  She was obviously someone's pet, not just a stray. She had been well cared for, even had her teeth cleaned recently.  But they found no owners.  She was lost, starving and scrawny, but so loving and friendly. I felt pity on her and named her Annie, as in a Little Orphan.  And after a few days of sweet-talking Manny, I convinced him to let me bring her home to Indiana. Annie had already found her way into our hearts, and our family. She made the 12 hour drive in the back seat, curled up next to me. And when Manny met her he fell in love.

She really really is a good dog. She never chews on things or tears things up. She's well behaved, especially with the boys - so gentle. And she LOVES her babies. Those ratty, stinky, babies who she arranges just right in her bed and sleeps with in her mouth.

Our sweet dog-daughter had to be put to sleep today. 10-11-12.

She was deaf, blind, had no sense of smell, her back legs were becoming crippled, and most recently we found out she has heart worms. She was old and suffering. There was nothing else we could do.

This morning the boys had a chance to say goodbye to her before Manny took her to the vet. It was a sad farewell.  Zeke especially adores her, but thankfully he will not remember. He has a real affinity for animals and I know someday he will be the one to request another dog.

We are not ready to replace our baby yet. Losing one is hard enough. I don't want to do that again any time soon.  Our Annie was the best pet we could have asked for.  We miss her already. :(

Heartbreak on Franklin Street

This is the true story of how Little Duck spent his day.  It may end up being more of a novella. But stick with me, its worth reading to the end. I promise.

First of all, you know Little Duck, right?  Elijah's best friend in the universe.  He's a small, yellow(ish) beanie baby duck which he loves with all his heart.  In fact, to say Elijah loves L.D. is kind of an understatement.  I know for a fact that if anything were ever to happen to him, Elijah would be devastated beyond comprehension.

So this is the week of Evansville's annual Fall Festival on Franklin Street.  It's a week-long grease-fest, which just so happens to take place exactly 3 feet from my office door.  Needless to say we partake.  Elijah had literally been counting down the days until the start of the Fall Festival with a calendar on the fridge.  This is a HUGE happening in his world.  And of course, the highlight of his week is the day he gets to have a bracelet for unlimited rides for an entire day.  This year was even more exciting because he's now tall enough (44.5 inches!) to ride every ride except one!  It was decided that today (Thursday) would be ride day.

So this morning after my morning Bible Study group, we headed down to Franklin St. with a bounce in our step, ready to ride kiddie rides until we dropped.  Before we left the house we had a discussion that went like this:

E: Mom, I really want to bring Little Duck to church to show him to Ivy since she always brings her bunny with her.

Me: Honey, that's really not a good idea. What if you lose Little Duck?

E: I would NEVER lose Little Duck!  I love him!  Please, Mom?

Me: Now Elijah, this is a big responsibility. If you take him you have to make sure you don't leave him anywhere.

E: I know!  And besides, Little Duck really wants to ride the Fall Festival rides with me!  It will be so much fun for him!

Me: Alright.  But if you lose him at the Fall Festival, you will probably never see him again.  It's very crowded in the park. There are lots of kids, and you really don't want anything bad to happen to Little Duck.

E: I won't!  He's just going to ride the rides with me!  And I'll put him in my pocket if I need to.

Me: Ok, you may bring him, but I really don't think this is a good idea.

E: Trust me, Mom.

We arrived to the kiddie park 30 minutes before the rides opened.  The half hour wait was excruciating.  We occupied ourselves by getting a snack (deep fried cheese sticks and a Dr. Pepper) and strolling up and down the festival route watching all the other crazy moms and dads with their broods of excited cotton-candy buzzed children.  At 12 o'clock on the DOT we stood in line, got his ride bracelet, and point-zero-five seconds later he was bolting across the street to stand in line for his first ride.

For the first two hours we made our way methodically around the park, selecting which ride would be next on the basis of either how long the line was, or its level of awesomeness, on a scale of who-knows-what.  He and Little Duck did the obstacle course, like, 24 times in a row, (maybe I exaggerate), the spinning bears, then airplanes, then carousel (which makes me want to barf just watching it), then the train (twice), then old fashioned cars, then swings, then a couple other spinny-around things, then fun house (4 times), then the frogger, then the giant slide (twice), then bumper cars, then the cars again, obstacle course again, and train again.  Then I was exhausted and requested a water and potty break.  It was hot that afternoon.  I was in such a hurry to get back to the air-conditioned office (bathroom) that I didn't notice Little Duck's absence from his usual place under Elijah's arm. (duh, duh, duhhhh....)

We cooled off, had drinks, I ate a corn-on-the-cob, Elijah ate a chicken ka-bob, and we met up with Grandma Debby and Zeke.  After a short recoup the 4 of us decided to make another go of the park.  This time Elijah and Zeke went on the train together. It was Zeke's first time!  He LOVED it. No, loved isn't a strong enough word for how Zeke felt about the train. Tantrum would be more accurate. Well, that's what happened when it was time to get off the train. Naturally it was one of my poudest mom moments. In fact, if you look closely at the image below (go ahead and scroll down if you want) you can see the beginnings of the melt-down. That photo was taken just after the train came to a stop.

So, we proceeded to the "big" park where the three of us rode the ferris wheel. (Fun!) Then Grandma Debby took Elijah on all the rides again, and a few of them more than once while I took Zeke on a walk and got him a snack. Then it was round three for me... I took Elijah on every ride AGAIN while pushing Zeke around in the stroller in the shadeless heat.  Zeke was not a fan of this and started to voice his protest. So, to cap off the afternoon, they both went on the train together again.

I was like the walking dead after 5 hours in that dang kiddie park, on my feet, in the heat. 

However, since I am an awesome mom, before we called it a day we stopped off at a booth and picked up a couple of bags of cotton candy (yellow for Elijah).  Also, and I will not swear to this, but that cotton candy may have been used as bribery to leave the park.  Zeke fell asleep on the drive home, sticky blue remnants covering his hands, face, and clothes.  I would have fallen asleep too if somone would have offered to operate my car.

Now comes the part of this novella where I just randomly insert lots more pictures. Becaue they don't really fit the story.  So here is what Elijah's fun day was looking like...  Please make special note of the fact that Little Duck appears in nearly every photo either beside Elijah, under his armpit, or in his hands.  It would be fair to say that Little Duck enjoyed this ride day at the Fall Festival as much, if not more, than Elijah did.

Little Duck was not allowed to ride the Fun Slide as it required two hands to hold the burlap sack.

In stead, Little Duck and I watched and cheered from the bottom.

Little Duck sits beside Elijah in the spin-around ride, above.

You can't see him here, but Little Duck is buckled in next to Elijah in the bumper car.

Little Duck got to ding the train bell too!

Thank goodness for seatbelts or I would have been concerned for L.D.'s safety.

He was brave on the swings and even flew along beside Elijah.

Ok, so now you get the picture. Little Duck rode nearly every ride with Elijah and he too was having a great time.  But.... BUT something went terribly wrong.

Once at home, the boys and I sat down for some dinner (I picked up pizza on the way! Mom of the year?).  While we were eating and chatting away about all the fun things that we did, it hit me - a sense of dread - and I realized Little Duck wasn't sitting at his normal place next to Elijah at the table.

"Elijah? Where is Little Duck?" I asked.  A long, tense pause. "I... uh... I don't know. Maybe he's in the car?" he said, but I could hear the quiver in his voice. He knew what I knew, we hadn't seen Little Duck since we left the Fall Festival.  So I went and checked every square inch of the car.  I returned with bad news. No Little Duck. 

"Think sweetie. Did you have him when you got in the car? Remember you were holding your cotton candy and that balloon?"  That's when the panic started.  "Oh! Noooooo! Mom, I don't remember. I don't think so."  At this point Elijah literally began wailing.  I might have said a few words about being a responsible Duck owner, his promise NOT to let anything happen to L.D., and the fact that I had told him this morning it wasn't a good idea. Obviously, he agreed with me and was repentant. But none of that helped.  At that moment all we could think about is HOW could we get Little Duck home.  My mind was racing through the thousands of places he could have gone, thoughts of how to get him back, if that was even possible, and how I could console Elijah when the inevitable outcome happened. 

We all cried. All three of us. We sat there at that kitchen table and boo-hoo'd our faces off.  Zeke was clueless but offered up sympathetic tears, Elijah could barely speak or even breath, and I was just heart-broken for my sweet boy to have lost his best friend in the whole world.  It was a traumatic scene to be sure.  Elijah finally spoke up with renewed confidence, "Mom, we need to pray for Little Duck. God knows where he is and He can help you find him."  So we bowed our heads, joined hands, and Elijah led us in a prayer, "Dear God. Since you know where Little Duck is can you help Mom find him? Amen."  As Zeke echoed "ah-en" I decided to go.

I had no plan but I knew I couldn't sit there at home and mourn Little Duck without giving my best effort to recover him. So I grabbed my keys left our pizza to turn cold on the table, and away we dashed without even putting shoes on the boys. It was nearly 6:00 pm and the sky was blazing with a pink sunset as we sped to my parent's house. I knew I couldn't battle the festival crowd with both of them in tow. So as I drove, I tried calling both of them with no answer. I tried and tried again. Of all the times not to answer!  I was desperate so I went there to drop the boys off anyway. Thankfully when we got there my Dad was in the back yard and was able to keep and eye on the boys while I went on my L.D. Extraction mission. 

I drove like a banshee back down to Franklin Street, where I KNEW I would never, ever, in a million years find a parking place at 6:30 in the evening, on a beautiful night, when every inhabitant of Evansville was packing into to that 5-block-strip of town.  So I prayed earnestly for a parking spot.  And I prayed for God to show mercy to Elijah (and me) and help me locate the lost best friend.  My heart was pounding and I was in a nervous sweat by the time I made my way through the streams of pedestrians to the place where I had been parked before.  My only hope was that the spot I had vacated two hours earlier was still open. That chance was minuscule, but I tried anyway.  And unbelievably, it was still open! 

A rush of adrenaline empowered me then to elbow my way through the crowd, running to my office, trying to beat the sunset.  By my estimation, I had last seen Little Duck right before we left the park the first time. So I had hoped he would be in the office. Maybe Elijah had left him in the bathroom when we stopped in for a break?  A thorough search revealed nothing. Next I retraced our steps from the back entrance of the office to the kiddie park.  I carefully scanned the ground, every trashcan, dumpster, and filthy corner of that alley on my way there. Still nothing. My next idea was to ask the ride operator of the train (the last ride he went on before the mid-day break) if anyone had recovered a ratty, yellow duck. No one had.  But the ride operators had changed since then.  So I spotted a group of carnival workers nearby and was lucky enough to find one who spoke English. I inquired. They laughed and told me "good luck, as if anyone would ever find a little toy in this madness! Besides, 10 thousand children have probably walked through the park since then. Someone probably picked him up. Or mistook him for a carnival prize and threw him in the trash."  My heart sank, acknowledging the truth of that statement. Deep down I knew it was impossible to find him but I didn't want to believe it.  But in the midst of the heavily crowded park, littered with trash and packed with small excited bodies, I knew it was probably a lost cause. 

I fought back the tears and racked my brain because I wasn't giving up without a fight.  I decided to look for the ride worker who was operating the train when Little Duck rode it. He was across the lot and didn't have any recollection of a duck being left in one of the train cars. Bummer.  But he recommended that I check the carnival ride lost and found booth. By now it was dark and things were moving from uncomfortably crowded into the realm of claustrophobic chaos.  Dodging strollers, I ran to the place where he pointed. The booth worker told me that no one had turned in any toys at all today, but why not try the Nut Club lost and found booth.  So I headed for my destination, 2 blocks away, as fast as a person could bob and weave between festival-goers with hands full of fried and sticky goods.  The sympathetic Nut-Clubber in the booth informed me there were no ducks, but how about this green dinosaur?  Was he kidding?  If it were so easy to replace our beloved Little Duck I wouldn't have gone through all this grief!  I think he saw the tears welling up in my eyes as I declined his offer because he said hopefully that he would take my phone # and call me if anyone turned Little Duck in later and please try back tomorrow.  I knew as well as he did that no one would turn him in.  I hung my head and walked away.

I was totally defeated.  A lump was forming in my throat but I still didn't want to give up.  My feet were taking me in the direction of my car when a picture of my little boy hearing the news of a lost forever Little Duck came to me.  I said another prayer and made the decision to walk back to the kiddie park to give it one final look before heading home.  This time I decided to start on one end of the park and search literally every single ride, game, trashcan, bench, and booth - in, around, under, and sideways.  It proved to be much more difficult than I thought since the only light was coming in flashes from nearby rides and carnival booths. I must have looked crazy the way I stuck my head under benches and tables as I made my way through- eyes always on the ground.

And then, in what felt like slow motion (maybe it was the strobe lights from the swings that go round and round) a miracle happened on West Franklin Street.  My eye caught a glimpse of yellow in that half second of flashing light.  There on the platform where the ride operator pushes buttons and pulls levers I saw the yellow again. It pulled me forward... running, pushing children aside, leaping over diaper bags and strollers, ignoring the looks from angry parents as I darted.  And there he was. Little Duck sat, dirty and rejected looking, in front of the girl who ran the swings. When I was still 10 feet away, I shouted to her above the noise "That duuuuuckkkk! THAT DUCK! Oh my gosh! THAT'S MY SON'S LITTLE DUCK!" Now pushing between children to get closer to her, "Oh my gosh! Can I have that duck? I can't believe it! That's my little boy's duck!"  Her expression changed from annoyed to kind when she realized I was pointing to him. "Oh this? I found him behind some boxes over there. I thought someone would probably miss him, so I put him here in case anyone came to look."  I had to resist the urge to hug her as she passed Little Duck to me.  "I cannot thank you enough for doing that! I could never tell you how much this will mean to him. You have saved a 5-year-old boy from a lot of heartache", I squeaked out between tears.

And then I walked back to my car, sobbing uncontrollably and hugging a filthy yellow beanie baby to my chest. Little Duck had been saved. God saw a little boy's faith and heard his prayer. "Dear God. Since you know where Little Duck is can you help Mom find him?".  It was a miracle.  Truly.
And for the record, Little Duck will NEVER be allowed to go to the Fall Festival again.