Most of the places I lived while I was young involved snow. Sledding was second nature. It was especially fun to be towed along on inner-tubes by our horse or my dad's truck. Sadly, my children know nothing about snow. They've only had one or two encounters with the fuzzy, white stuff. One of the times was when we pulled off the highway while driving through the Grapevine to get to southern California. We stopped for 3 minutes so they could touch it and throw a snowball. The other time was on a brief trip to Kansas when a light snow fell, but promptly melted as it hit the ground.
So when I noticed that a neighboring town was hosting a "Winter Wonderland" and parade with a sledding hill involved, I knew we had to go.
Elliott had no problem sledding like a pro, but Caiden got cold feet at the top of the hill. There were tears and everything. But I wasn't going to let her give in to her fears, so I waited with her at the top until she went. I wasn't going to give up; and I wasn't going to let her give up either. After all, its not everyday that you find a 40 ton mound of snow to sled on in 65 degree weather.
After about 15 minutes or so, Caiden mustered up her courage and slid down the hill. At the bottom, we were met by a journalist who told me he had "watched the whole thing unfold." Apparently, he was touched by Caiden's little journey and wanted to put it in the paper.
They put a couple of pictures of her in the Marin Independent Journal with a little caption, her name, and a bit of her struggle.
And so, one of Caiden's life long ambitions has been fulfilled. She told me some time ago: "I want to be famous. I want people to know my name."
Well Caiden, now they do. Congratulations. You made it.