"Go Get Your Bucket"

When Julianne was preschool age, we lived on Juniper Street in Mesa. She had many little friends across the neighborhood. Life was simple and sweet. Down the street, about 6 houses, lived a mom (Melinda Whisenant) who ran a preschool. Her background was elementary education and she had boys herself that were Julianne's age. We were excited when Julianne reached age 4, since we had heard great things about the preschool.

I still remember some of the little clothes she wore: A bright colored tiered skirt, with a top to match, Sears Tough Skin jeans with the little girly applique on the pockets (perfect for little skinny legged girls and boys - and they never wore out), pink keds/like shoes from Marshall's (Daddy's store) . .
Melinda made big buckets out of old plastic 2/3 gallon ice cream containers for each of the kids to carry projects back and forth. The bucket was bigger than she was, and "JULIANNE" was spelled out in big 3" letters across the front.

One morning, she got up and, as usual, was ready to go too early. She loved preschool and being ready early was no surprise. I was busy with Carianne and getting Randy off, I'm sure. All morning, she was right there by me saying, "Is it time yet?" every few minutes. The answer was always, "Not yet". Finally, I must have felt her eagerness more, and instead of saying, "Not yet", I said, "Go get your bucket", thinking it would pacify her and take her mind off the wait.

I don't know how many minutes went by, but I suddenly realized she was not right there and I hadn't heard her little voice for too long. I missed it. I began looking everywhere. Bedrooms, bathrooms, backyard. She had disappeared. I was frantic. Where could she be? I gathered up Carianne and we rushed up the street to Melinda's. I softly patted the back door, the "kid's entry door". I didn't want to knock too loud, because it was still early and and I didn't want to disturb their family's early morning routine. The door opened slowly and there stood an unready Melinda. When she saw me, she stepped back and we both looked at a little girl, sitting quietly and patiently, all by herself in her special spot. She had a bucket that read "JULIANNE" on the floor in front of her. I'll never forget the look on her face. Pure contentment.

She was not scared and she honestly was ready for school to start. When I said "Get your bucket", to her earlier, to her that meant, "OK, it's time". I had never let her walk by herself without me watching, but that morning, she took control. It scared me to imagine her walking down the street all by herself. But she knew exactly where she was going. She had no idea how early she was and probably would have sat there patiently for hours. She was just ready, and knew her special place.

I guess those traits were signs of her personality as she grew, too. She hasn't been afraid to trust. She has liked knowing where she belongs. She loves people and her family. That's where she fits in the most. She is in control. She is grown now and has children of her own. . . surprisingly with the same sweet traits.

I still have the bucket. We filled it with crayons from then until now. It's a treasured piece of family history.

I Love You, Julianne!
Happy Birthday!
Mom