Dear Dawn, My family thinks I’m a ‘fraidy cat,’ because I really am anxious about traveling. There is so much in the news!  Were you ever afraid when you traveled?  Any close calls?

Dear ‘Fraidy,’

When I was a child I don’t remember anyone calling me a ‘fraidy cat’; but I used it on others.   Constantly!   Pride goeth before the fall!

Am I proud of traveling over thirty-five countries a la carte?  You know it!  I rarely remember being afraid.  Maybe it was my youth,  maybe my naivety,  but it worked. Groomed in the deep south, I was used to doors being opened for me,  and “Yes-sir” and “Yes-maam” were part of my Southern Belle vernacular.

The  Hirn men all wanted to go to India to see the Taj Mahal.  Me too, but I had read just enough news clippings and seen videos of graphic gang rapes of women in the streets of India to make me nervous.    In America, we call rape and attacks ‘crimes’; the Indian Government at that time, didn’t.

It was my turn to be called ‘fraidy cat.’   But I went anyway.How did I conquer my fear?  Who said I conquered it? I insisted one of the boys hold my hand the entire time, giving me the feeling of a unified front.  I put on my “Dawn-the-disintegrater-face” — you know, ‘if looks could kill,’ and headed into the subway with my family.  That worked well until the day I stopped for a quick photo of the last subway car marked “Women Only.”  When I turned around the doors of the subway closed with my family inside the train, and me alone on the platform.

There will come a time in each woman’s life when she needs to use the  “don’t-touch-me-I’m-a-bitch-who-will-claw-your-eyes-out”-look.  I used mine.

The Indian women appear so demure and kind. They tuck that look safely away.

The situation in India is improving, thanks to those who have raised world-wide attention by standing strong against violence, in their speech and their writing: “To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.” ― Arundhati Roy, The Cost of Living

Ron and I have tried to lead our sons by example and pray they will continue to respect all their brothers and sisters in the world. Dawn

Dear Dawn,  When it came time for Easter, Christmas and Thanksgiving, what did you do to celebrate?

We ‘looked ahead!’   Easter would be in Montenegro. We shopped ahead in Germany and Austria, knowing it would be hard to find ingredients for baskets for the boys.  And we wanted to bring our traditions with us wherever we went.  At that point we had rented a camper, so we were able to hide our stash.

There are traditions we hold dear.  But we were also excited to learn how others around the world celebrated – so many on Easter Monday.

In Poland, the Easter Tradition is just as whacky as our Bunny-egg-thing: Easter Monday boys carry around buckets of water and squirt guns to soak each other in a tradition called Smingus-Dyngus that goes back to Polish Prince Miesko 966 AD. Had something to do with Baptism, so the prince is probably flipping in his grave!

Easter Monday, the town of Haux, France serves a giant omelet to the town’s people.  We’re talking 4500 eggs — giant!    They say Napoleon once visited the town, liked their omelet offering so much, he ordered up a giant omelet for his army.   How they cooked the thing is another question for Google.

In a beach-side park near the place we were camping in Montenegro, we hid eggs, and on Easter morning Ron gathered the family to once again tell the story of Easter, from Jesus’ last supper, to the trial, death and resurrection.  The true meaning of Easter for us  – from the cross to the grave to the resurrection.

It is always important to look ahead!

Happy Easter

Dawn

Dear Dawn, I don’t want to offend you, but how could you have allowed your young kids to go on a Safari in Africa?  Just the thought of it freaks me out!  Was it some sort of kid-safe safari or did you do the camp-on-the-savanna thing?

Dear Freaked-out, thank you for your candor. Ron and I did a lot of research before we chose the right family safari.  We wanted the genuine experience but Colton, our eight-year-old, had a tendency to wander off so child-safety was a huge factor. We didn’t want to dummy the wild experience down to an amusement park where large men dress up in Wildebeest costumes either.

With every adventure comes risk.   Often, I wrestle trying to be the best mom I can be while making sure other parents think I am.   And that just doesn’t work.  You have to be true to who you are while giving your child life’s best experiences.  Ron and I had always loved traveling and wanted our sons to find the joy we had found meeting people from other countries, living life as they did, and surrounding ourselves by strange and new experiences.

You cannot imagine the thrill of seeing a herd of gazelles charging across a field, spotting a rare black rhino in a group of white rhinos, the overwhelming feeling of knowing there is a majestic lioness prancing around your car, or feeling the ground shake beneath you at the approach of wild elephants.

We found the perfect family-friendly safari in a private reserve.  Thousands of acres of natural land filled with thousands of wild things, including the Big Five.  Those who own these huge reserves are diligent to make certain these animals are cared for and well fed.   We stayed within the compound, cooked our own food, and twice each day they drove us out to see what the savanna had to offer.

No matter how hard we try to protect our children, they still can and do get hurt.  But don’t miss the experience of a lifetime because you are afraid to take steps out of the darkness into the light of God’s world.  You will return with enough great memories to see you through life – and your family’s stories grow better with each telling!

Dawn