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the yard—bare brown from years of
sneakers scuffing the grass under the
swings. I thought about the joy of those
little boys, years ago, when we first an-
chored that swing set under the out-
stretched arms of our Norway maple.
Isaiah called again, and Logan nod-
ded in encouragement. I walked over
the drive and opened the gate. Took the
five steps down to the patio, careful to
look at my feet and not at the side yard.
“Mom! See?” Gabriel grabbed my
hand. “We finally did it! We’ve wanted
one for so long! Look at Isaiah!”
I let my gaze settle on the side yard.
My chest tightened at the reveal of the
empty space. But then there was my
youngest—in the tree. Isaiah stood on
a platform that had been built into the
lower branches of the maple. His smile
shone with pride. The wooden ladder
that once led to the tower of their play
set leaned against the trunk. Though
Isaiah stood on just a few narrow
planks of wood, I caught the vision: a
tree house in the making. A tall, high,
hidden place for growing boys.
The swing set was being transformed
into something different.
Something new. Though the
structure wasn’t the same,
the wood was.
And this tree house—it
held fresh promise. I could
imagine the boys having
sleepovers up there—sleep-
ing bags rolled out and flashlights
glinting like fireflies on a summer
night. I imagined them playing games
and reading books and shooting sling-
shots under the cover of leaves. The
best part? They couldn’t wait to share
their joy with me. They were talking a
mile a minute as they climbed the lad-
der and jumped down and then climbed
up again. As they dreamed bigger-boy
dreams out loud, I noticed Logan pick
up tools to help. I remembered his
words of encouragement—the kind
of love and wisdom that comes from a
grown-up heart.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“Beautiful?” Isaiah said, scrunching
up his face. “It’s a guy place, Mom.”
But I wasn’t talking about the tree
house. I was thinking about life. About
how it can’t stay the same. Ever. But if
only I’d let it, all that was old and out-
grown can be transformed into some-
thing exciting and new. Something
wonderful.
I looked up at my sons in their
new tree house. This time my smile
matched theirs.GROWING PAINS The
Eliasens recently moved to a
new home in Iowa.Shawnelle’s kids share the best advice she ever gave them. guideposts.org/shawnelle