Behold!

My kids teach me many things, but the lessons that make me cry are the best ones. In February we (the kids and I) took a little trip to Utah. We got a screaming deal on tickets and D was working horrendous hours--it was a great time to be gone. I made the mistake of snapping some photos on the plane--because I ended up leaving my camera there. I didn't realize until the next day, and although I called the Southwest office in Salt Lake incessantly, nobody picked up. I tried again the next day. Somebody finally answered, and I gave her the description of the camera and the flight number and time, and she said, "After 24 hours, any lost and found items are sent to corporate in Texas." Ugh!

I called the Texas office and gave a detailed description, saying that the camera wasn't worth a whole lot. Just a crappy digital point and shoot camera in a breastmilk storage bag with a few batteries. All I wanted back was the memory card.

I was in agony because before the trip, I stupidly neglected to download the photos. Aside from a few Halloween photos, I hadn't downloaded anything for over five months--autumn, Christmas, playing in the snow, Pip's birthday--it was all gone. I was really broken up about it. I told the kids and we started praying that somehow we would get our camera back. We mentioned it in every prayer.

Nothing turned up for the 10 days I was gone, and I called Southwest corporate again when we returned to Michigan. They said sometimes it could take up to a few weeks. Well, the weeks went by, and we kept praying, but still no news of our camera. I was really starting to lose hope. The kids still mentioned it in prayers, especially Pip. A month passed, and then two. Our camera was gone, and with it all those precious photos. I mourned their loss and the fact that I could never visually review those memories.

Then one day, I found a box on the front porch. I wasn't expecting a package--what could it be? Suddenly I saw "Southwest Airlines" tape on it. I burst into tears and thought, "Really? Could it be?" I tore open the box and behold! The black Similac bag with our camera inside, and inside that, the memory card that held a record of our lives the past half year. Oh, how I wept for joy! And then I realized that, although I had lost hope of ever getting our camera back, my kids had not. Pip had mentioned the camera in every prayer. It had never even occurred to him that we might not find it. When I told them through my tears that our camera was found, they just looked at me as if to say, "Well, of course it was. We prayed about it, didn't we?" Behold, the faith of a child!