Clover memories

BY KAREN H. GONZALES

Is it a requirement that all elementary school playgrounds possess fields filled with clover and honeysuckle bushes standing guard at the fence?

I watched my daughter Karina discover the joys of starting school when she began kindergarten here in Cobb County three years ago. Many new things excited her throughout her first year. It began with riding the school bus, which positively thrilled her. This was followed closely by the excitement of lunchtime. "Mom! I get to eat in a cafeteria! And today we had strawberry milk!" She made friends, dressed up like a pilgrim and put on holiday plays, joined the Daisy Girl Scouts and learned her three R's.

And then, each day in springtime, Karina came home and affectionately presented me with the fruits of her day -- necklaces made of clover strung together like pearls, precise instructions on the best technique for extracting the juice out of a honeysuckle flower, tales of an exciting game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors," with the rules ever a moving target.
Unavoidably, in a mighty rush, I was overcome with a riptide of memories that pulled me back to my own childhood like it was yesterday.

Just yesterday I created my own infinite chains of clover, and wore them everywhere I went. Just yesterday I inhaled the aroma of honeysuckle and risked the wrath of greedy bees trying to pluck the blooms and suck the nectar.

I did not know I had forgotten how to make clover necklaces or play "Rock, Paper, Scissors." I had allowed the incessant demands of adult life to suppress those dear memories. When the sweet smell of blooming honeysuckles wafted by, I ignored it in the rush of the day's activities. How many other childhood riches had I forgotten?

I am so blessed by the girl who dashes out to the bus stop each morning, eager for that day's new discovery. Even now, going into third grade, she would still rather ride the bus than be driven in a car. She still weaves clover necklaces. On my recent birthday, she brought me a vase filled with honeysuckle vine.

Each day, I cannot wait for Karina to come home with the spoils from her day of adventure -- treasures that set free cherished recollections from the deepest recesses of my mind and bring an unavoidable smile to my face.

I think I'll settle the next project deadline debate at work with a rousing game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors," making up the rules as we go along. That will leave us with plenty of time after the meeting to go to the sunny field behind the office and see if any clovers fought through the landscapers' weed killer to flourish, just on the off chance someone would like to weave a clover necklace.

Karen H. Gonzalez is an IT environment coordinator at T-Mobile in Atlanta who writes in her spare time. She lives in Marietta with her husband, Luanel, and daughter Karina. They have been Cobb EMC members since 1995.