My wife and I used to vacation in a small cottage at
an old-fashioned resort in Michigan. It was a perfect
mix of warm days filled with the banging of the screen
doors and cool nights with filled with fleeces and bonfires.
And then there was the sandbox. Just behind our cottage was a sandbox. From the moment our 4-year-old
son first laid eyes on it he was infatuated. He was all
about the sandbox. He would spend hours and hours
playing in the sandbox.
But here’s the thing. Lake Michigan was about 10 minutes away. And we hadn’t driven 8 hours for a sandbox. I’ll never forget the morning I sprung the exciting
news on John. If he liked this little wooden 15 by 15
patch of sand wait until he saw where we were going.
Sandbox as far as they eye could see and sea gulls
and waves to boot!
“What? Leave the sandbox?” He would have nothing
to do with it. “Father, I know I’m only 4 years old but
I’ve found my bliss and there can be nothing more.”
Actually what I think he said was “No-No-No!” followed
by tears and gnashing of teeth as I pulled him from the
sandbox and wrangled him into the car-seat. The next
10 minutes were not pleasant. For him or anyone else
in the car. But then we were there. And he loved it. He
was all about Lake Michigan.
He didn’t have the perspective to see his little sandbox
was nice but nothing next to the real thing. But I was
his dad, and I could see further than him. And I knew
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him better than he even knew himself at point. And so
with a little short term disappointment he discovered
something that was so much more than what he had
settled for.
My son was 4. I’m 51 and still learning that lesson.