Thrifty Thursday: Time Travel

       Remember last year when I raved about the Colonial Fest? I'm still the mom that carts her kids around to every historic reenactment she can find -- especially when admission is free! 

       Cove Fort is a Historic site owned by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The majestic structure was built over 100 years ago to provide lodging for travelers. Free tours are offered year-round, but Cove Fort Days is only held annually, the first weekend of August. The volunteers all donate their time and talents to provide a highly educational and immensely enjoyable event. My kindred-spirit cousin informed me she'd be taking her kids, so I braved the 2 hour drive with my own little ones. Eight hours and seven sunburns later, we returned home, exhausted, but tremendously satisfied. 

     This link will show you a picture of the trees as they appeared up until last year. We happened to be passing through southern Utah last fall and stopped for a tour at Cove Fort. Our guide told us that in a couple month's time, the towering trees would have to be cut down. We were glad to be able to see them in their glory. I was very happy this time around to see how they have honored them.

     The pleasant concertina player told me his instrument had been a popular one back in the days of Cove Fort. Often, musicians and performers were given a free meal and a place to stay in exchange for them sharing their talents. "They literally had to sing or their supper!" he said. 

     To borrow a phrase used by one of the storytellers at the event, my 2 year-old "took a shining" to the musician!

     This potter travels all the way down from Montana, bringing his own clay to fashion a pot for each family that visits during Cove Fort days.

     My oldest delighted the Quilters with her eagerness for a lesson.

     Lori Walker spins on her restored Gypsy wheel. She belongs to a Spinning Guild with my cousin!

         My favorite part was the clearing where children gathered to play with old-fashioned toys. Young volunteers in costume demonstrated how to arrange strips of cloth to make a rag doll. Boys competed in rope-toss games and battled with wooden swords and pistols. Little ones waited impatiently for a turn on the rocking horse, and their tiny hands lovingly rearranged the variety of wooden toys into rows.

      The doll's name is Annabelle Summer, in case you were wondering.

      This picture and the one below were taken by my cousin. A thousand thanks, Arianne! They perfectly capture the simple pleasures we enjoyed that day. 

     My kids were especially excited about the wagon and stage coach rides! Here's my boys with one of their second cousins riding in the surprisingly comfortable stage coach.

        If you venture out to Cove Fort, be sure to bring sunscreen. It was an overcast day when we visited. That provided relief from the heat, but didn't keep us from getting sunburned! The wind was strong too, so I'd recommend jackets, maybe even hats for younger ones. And don't forget to pack a lunch! There's not much nearby in the way of convenient stores or restaurants. 

       But lest you think it's not worth the trip, let me share some aspects of our trip that have nothing whatever to do with frugality.

       The fortress walls may be stone-cold, but the people who volunteer their time there are as warm as a wool shawl. There is a comforting atmosphere that permeates the location. When people gather with a common passion and a common goal to share that passion with others, the results are anything but common! As a homeschooling mother of 6, it can be a challenge to find venues willing to accommodate eager youngsters (or cranky babies!). At times, we've been the target of judgmental stares and hurtful remarks. (I don't think this is unique to homeschoolers. Unfortunately, I'm sure most parents experience similar situations.) It's tricky to find a balance between allowing your children the freedom to explore and exercising enough control in order to avoid those scrutinizing looks from strangers. During our visit to Cove Fort, I thought it safe enough to let the children wander a bit, peeking into the rooms and peering around corners without me hovering over them. At one point, I lost track of one of the younger ones and began calling for her. An elderly service missionary noticed my plight and said she'd seen a little girl "over there". We located her quickly. No harm done. But for the rest of our visit, I'd feel this woman's eyes on me from time to time. I began to worry that she disapproved of my children's behavior in some way. When at last I called the children to me to pack up and leave, I thought my fears would be confirmed, as I noticed this woman beckoning to me from her wheelchair. I approached her, smiling pleasantly, though inside I was bracing myself for some unsolicited parental criticism. She held my arm and said in an earnest voice, "I've been watching you," Oh, great. Here it comes. "and I've been so impressed with the way you interact with your children. You're not ornery or impatient with them, but so pleasant and good-natured." 

       Dumbfounded, I stammered something about being lucky enough to have good kids. She insisted that that was a result of my treatment of them. 

       Glowing with motherly pride and gratitude, I headed with my brood over to the restrooms to take care of diapers before driving back home. Another woman entered the restroom and I could smell a faint odor of cigarette smoke. I wouldn't have thought anything of it, except that the woman seemed to be having trouble catching her breath. She was wheezing quite a bit. I asked if she were alright and offered her some water. She declined. A man came to the entrance of the restroom with another woman in a wheelchair and called to the wheezing lady, "Shirley? Can ya help?" He commented on Shirley's wheezing as she wheeled the older woman into the restroom. "Ya should-na walked so far. D'ya need your inhaler? I'll go get it."

        Overhearing their conversation I felt relieved. She'd get her inhaler and then she'd be okay. But while the fellow was gone, I noticed Shirley's breathing was getting worse. She had moved into the handicapped stall to assist her friend. I could hear her breathing becoming shallower, more desperate. When the man came back, he called to Shirley and I told him they were in the back stall. So he waited at the door. All the while I was changing diapers and washing little hands, wondering how to tell if an asthma attack were more severe than normal. It sounded to me like it was getting worse. I offered to take the inhaler back to them and the man gratefully passed it to me and went outside to wait. I passed it under the stall door to Shirley. Moments later, she wheeled out her friend and attempted to help her wash her hands. Things didn't seem to be getting any better. My little ones watched her uncertainly. They'd never witnessed an asthma attack before. Neither had I. 

       "Say a prayer for her." I told my oldest. 

       "I already did." Such a simple faith, that one has.

       But the breathing only worsened. This couldn't be normal. I turned around and saw Shirley seated on the bathroom floor, terror flickering in her wide eyes with each gasping breath. 

     "Are you alright?!" What an absurd question, but I didn't know what else to do. Another lady came in just about this time and offered help as well. I ran to tell the man what was happening and he rushed back in. The woman who had just come in ran to notify First Aid staff. The man had a tense conversation with Shirley, trying to asses how to help. "Talk to me, Shirley -- whadda ya need? Ya need your steroids? Where are they?"

        "My purse," came the strangled reply. While the gentleman was gone, the lady who had run to get help returned. As I tried to reassure my children, I was grateful for this woman's kind and confident manner. She stroked Shirley's arm and told her not to worry. The man came back in with the medication and very soon Shirley's breathing slowed and she was able to speak again.

       "Thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry to scare the kids!" she said. 

       I didn't want her to feel she'd done something wrong. "Oh, no, no." I told her. "They were just worried. They were praying for you."

       The kind lady patted her arm again. "Just look at their eyes," she said, motioning to the children. "Just full of love for you. 'Cuz we're all family, right? We're all here to help."

       Walking back to the car, I contemplated our experience. Had we left any earlier, we would not have been in the restroom at the same time as Shirley. I don't doubt that someone else would have helped her. But it seemed to me that we had been in the right place, at the right time. For whatever reason, it was important that we be there at that moment. 

       The settlers who established Cove Fort were positioned in the right place and at the right time for those weary travelers from long ago. They offered refuge, comfort and peace to those who passed their way. Most of the lodgers would only stay a short while and would most likely never see their hosts again. But for that short while, they were taken in and cared for. They were given the rest, the encouragement and the hope they needed to continue on their way. 

       I'd like to think that in my own small way, I can be just like that fortress: steadfast and immovable on the outside, with a glowing fire on the inside, willing to share my warmth and light with those who pass my way, no matter how long they need to stay in order to catch their breath. Cuz we're all family, right? We're all here to help.