The Old Hickory Tree

    I am doing everything in my power to keep the kids calm during the storm. I rock Emma and sing lullabies to Jason. My husband, Peter, reads to Tyler and Kenzie as they lay on the carpet with their feet kicking in the air. I knew Tyler and Emma would be fine-Tyler is fascinated by weather and storms, and Emma is just eight months old. But Kenzie and Jason are obviously petrified, and they flinch with every crash of thunder.

    Just as Peter is turning the page, a bolt of lightning strikes the old hickory tree across the street. The fire is put out almost immediately by the rain, but the tree falls into the power line. On cue, the lights flicker out and I’m left with a screaming baby in my lap, a toddler grasping my leg, and a scared little girl sitting on the rug. Tyler ran across the room to the big window and is watching the family across the street rush out to the tree. I place the baby in my husband’s arms and dart into the kitchen to grab candles and matches. I light the match, then the candle. I place it on the table, breathing in the familiar, calming scent of cinnamon. By now Peter has gathered the kids in the kitchen with me.

    “Mommy, did a monster steal our light?” Kenzie asks, her young face shrouded in fear.

    “No, honey,” I say, handing her a flashlight. “See the flashlight? The candle? This is a power outage. The electricity that keeps our lights on is broken. The workers will fix it soon, I promise.”

    Kenzie busies herself switching the flashlight on and off. I give Tyler and Jason a flashlight, too, and grab the battery powered lantern from the closet.

    “Hey, Miranda,” Peter says. I take Emma from him and bounce her in my arms.

    “Yes, honey?” I reply.

    “Why don’t we go camping?” he asks. I look at him, utterly confused.

    “Isn’t it-“ I stop mid-sentence as I look out the window. It is still cloudy, but the rain has stopped.

    “Why not?” he says. “I have the old tent out in the garage, and we can start a fire and make smore’s. We still have marshmallows from the marshmallow blondies you made, and chocolate from when you were going to volunteer at the bake sale. The kids would love it- come on honey!”

    “Sure!” I respond. Peter starts for the garage and I explain to the kids what we are doing.

    “Tyler, Kenzie, you remember when we went camping in the forest?” They nod, so I continue. “We are going to do that, but in the yard.   I take Jason’s hand, adjust Emma on my hip, and tell Kenzie and Tyler to come into the yard with me.

    Peter is in the middle of the yard, buried in the folds of a crumpled tent. He appears out of the dark mess of canvas, and puts in the pole.

    “This is harder than I remember,” he says. “I just need to get this last peg in.” The tent finally stands up. A bit crooked, but standing nonetheless. We all get inside. Peter and I show Kenzie, Tyler, and Jason how to make shadow puppets. Jason keeps making a dinosaur that chases everyone else’s animals, Emma sits in the corner of the tent, clapping her small hands and giggling.

    “We make s’mores?” Tyler asks.

    “Of course!” I say. Peter goes to get some sticks from under the trees.

    “Miranda?” he calls. I go over to him, scooping Emma up in my arms. “Miranda, everything is wet. It just wouldn’t catch fire. We can’t make s’mores.”

    “Tyler, Jason, Kenzie!” I beckon. They come over and I repeat to them what Peter just told me. They all look really disappointed. “Don’t worry, though. We can go in the tent and tell silly stories.”

    “Why not spooky stories?” Tyler asks.

    “Jason is only three years old. Kenzie is only five.” I say firmly. “That’s too little for a scary story. You’re only seven yourself, young man.” Begrudgingly he follows the rest of us into the tent.

    Out of nowhere, the tent collapses. The kids shriek in a pitch that’s somewhere between opera singer and dog whistle.

    “Peter!” I say. He stands and holds the tent high up.

    “Sorry,” he says with a goofy smile. I sigh. I hold Emma and grab Tyler’s hand. I motion to Peter hold hands with Jason and Kenzie, and he does-after making sure the tent won’t fall on his head. We go inside the house and sit around the kitchen table. I put Emma in her highchair.

    The candle flickers in the middle of the table. I blow it out and replace it with the lantern now that it is darker outside.

    “What do we do now?” Kenzie asks. I shrug and look towards Peter, who gives me a look that shows he has no ideas either. I’m about to suggest charades, or maybe flashlight tag in the yard, when suddenly the lights flicker and come back on.

    “Power! We have power!” We all rejoice, although it’s only been two hours. We could have had it a lot worse.

    Peter heads over to the cupboard and gets 10 graham crackers, 3 chocolate bars, and 5 marshmallows. I watch as he cuts the chocolate bars in half and gives a piece to Emma.

    “Peter!” I scold. “That can’t be good for her!” Emma smiles a big toothless grin and babbles happily.

    He arranges the crackers in two rows of five, and makes a sandwich with chocolate followed by a marshmallow, topped off with another cracker. He puts the whole tray into the microwave for fifteen seconds, and after what seems like fifteen years we finally enjoy our s’mores.

     I sigh as I look at my beautiful family. My sweet family that has sticky chocolate smeared on their faces. I start to get upset, but start laughing. You know what, I’m glad that old hickory tree came down. It gave us a chance to have time together as a family, and I’m happy for that.