Seeming unconvinced, Hope took hold of Linnea’s hand and allowed herself to be tugged to her feet.

They slipped into shoes and sweaters, since it was unusually chilly. Linnea gently herded the child out the door into the waning light. The sun was lowering, cooling the air even more. Immediately Hope took off in the direction of the beach—and home. Linnea did some fast thinking.

“This way! There’s something I want to show you.”

Hope stopped and pointed to her house. “No, there.”

“I have to show you something. You’re going to love it. Hurry, now.” She wiggled her fingers in a come on, even as her mind scrambled to think of what she could possibly show that a six-year-old would find amusing.

The azaleas were aflame, honeysuckle filled the air with its cloying scent, and the dunes surrounding the house were sprouting with buds of wildflowers. These were spring glories that she thrilled to—but would a child? No, she thought with a sigh. Linnea searched the natural landscape, and as she did, it dawned on her that she had to see the outdoors with new eyes—with the eyes of a child—filled with awe and wonder.

Her gaze swept the nooks and crannies along the base of the house. Where was an anole? A green tree frog? She searched the thick shrubs for a bird’s nest. A flash of red in the sky drew her attention to the live oak tree in Emmi’s yard. A cardinal! They nested here as early as March. She heard the high-pitched calls, which sounded like the male was saying, kiss me, kiss me.

“Hope, come see!” Linnea gestured again, and smiled with relief when Hope walked toward her. She held her hand as they approached the tree and checked out their scarlet visitor. Suddenly, she heard a loud, insistent knocking on a window. The cardinal flew off. Linnea rolled her eyes and, looking up, saw John standing at the tall window.

“Who’s that?” asked Hope, staring up.

Before she could answer, John pushed open the double window and shouted out, “Hello!”

Hope, curious, stepped forward and waved back with exuberance.

John called out something, but from where they stood, they couldn’t understand. Linnea cupped her hand to her ear and shook her head. John put up a finger in the universal just a minute sign and disappeared.

Hope turned to look at her. “Where did he go?”

Linnea shrugged. But she could guess. Sure enough, a moment later John returned to the window and waved again. Then he pointed to Hope with one hand, and with the other released a paper airplane.

The plane sailed through the air, avoiding the large live oak and crossing over the fence. Enchanted, Hope squealed with delight and took off after it. Linnea had to laugh at the sight. Hope scampered across the scrubby dunes in front of the cottage and, arms high in the air, managed to catch the plane. She was beaming, proud of herself. Linnea hurried to her side.