Hard Work and Chickens

Hard work and chickens; that's what Cole likes. He's never happier than when there's wood to throw or Dad is home to work with. New projects thrill him, as well as pipping eggs and baby chicks. His brain is always a-whirl with numbers, and plans, and projects. Rarely does he ever let me take his picture. Usually all I get is a hand covered face, or a blurred image as he ducks his head. It must have been the new/used thrift store cover-all's that made digital photography acceptable this morning. Or maybe just the fact that he was in his glory made it acceptable to almost stop to pose for mom. Or maybe it was just the zoom lens and hiding behind the lilac bush that allowed me to capture so much. I wonder about him as he is hauling wood alone this morning. Having been promoted so early to big brother status, and the weight of that responsibility at twelve-years-old, how he's really doing. How do young boys process losing their big brothers? Their rivals, their examples, their worst enemy and best friend? I don't know what else to do but pray, and love him, and keep pointing him to Jesus. So I do just that. Then I put my camera down and help him haul wood so he doesn't have to do it alone, and listen to him talk about chickens, and rabbits, and wood piles.