Summer of Four
Summer of Four, and the girl was three.
Some places are full of magic, holding mountains, prairies, and coastal waters all in the same region. In an apple orchard nestled deep in the mountains of the Carolinas, there was a close-knit neighborhood where many relatives lived side by side.
Among them were two children who were cousins and the very best of friends. The boy was just a little older than his sweet girl cousin, and he loved her very much.
On the day this story begins, the boy woke up knowing it was a major milestone. Today was her birthday, and she was turning three years old. He liked to hold up three fingers whenever he thought about it, just like he held up five fingers when thinking about his own upcoming birthday in the Fall.
The boy and the girl planned to meet before all of their friends and family gathered for the big afternoon party. You only get to turn three once, which made it a day worth celebrating.
The sun was high in the sky when they spotted each other from opposite ends of a long lane. A tall split-rail fence lined the path, where wild flowers bobbed in the sunshine and bees hummed among the sweet petals.
The moment they locked eyes, they started running toward each other, laughing until they met with a big, spinning hug that almost knocked them both over. They giggled and dropped the things they were carrying, including a small pink flower the boy had tucked into his pocket. He had plucked it from a twirling tendril on the wooden fence, thinking how perfect the bright blossom would look in her curly hair.
"What is this?" she asked softly, picking up the delicate pink flower from the fine gravel at their feet.
The boy smiled and pointed to the vines beside them. The breeze made the blossoms dance as he showed her the fence. "I picked a birthday present for you. Are you ready to go? I brought our favorites."
His face beamed as he held up a heavy paper sack that smelled delicious. "Did you bring anything?"
She proudly held out her favorite pink blanket, which matched her new birthday flower. She also showed him a cold bottle of their favorite lemonade.
"Let's go," they shouted at the same time.
They took off to find the perfect spot for a birthday picnic. They ran down the lane, their feet scritching on the tiny rocks and kicking up dust behind them. They loved running on this path because the crunching stones sounded just like water rushing, splashing, and crashing ahead of them.
They ran past a break in the trees where water bounced and trickled down steep rocks, spraying them with a balmy mist that cooled their faces. They ran past a hushed, placid pond where splashing frogs and dashing fish chased dragonflies across the glassy surface. Finally, they ran past a stream that spread its crystal fingers toward a broad beach. Through the power of their steps, the mountain lane opened up to an expanse of blue and green waves washing onto a warm, sandy shore.
The children picked a spot in the shade of a tall, strong lighthouse. The girl smoothed out her pink blanket on the sun-baked sand at the base of the entrance, right where a fountain of purple irises grew like a gentle flag marking their spot.
The boy unpacked the good-smelling things from the paper sack, which was now thoroughly crumpled from their jolting journey. Together, they set out sandwiches made with soft, buttery bread. Then, they unpacked several apples that had been sliced and dipped in orange juice that morning, along with a handful of berries in every color: purples, blues, bright reds, magentas, and some so dark they were almost black.
They ate quietly, enjoying the syrupy-sweet berries and sharing the sandwiches. Between bites, they sipped the cold lemonade, which tasted as though it had been chilled in a mountain spring for hours.
When they were full, they stretched out in the shade. The boy watched a few seagulls eyeing their leftover crumbs and asked in a quiet whisper, "Are you excited to be three today?"
She looked up smiling. "Oh, yes. I can do lots of things now. I can put on my shoes, find my favorite purple bear, and eat my breakfast all by myself."
Then she remembered that the boy had already reached this milestone, so she asked him softly, "How did you know you were ready?"
The boy looked into the sky, thinking back to his last birthday. "I just knew it," he said, smiling. "You just are."
The girl still looked a little doubtful, so he explained further. "You are three this Summer, and I am four now. On my birthday in the Fall, I will be five."
"How do you know when your birthday is here?" the girl asked.
"When it gets close to my birthday, the air gets chilly and crispy in the morning," the boy said, holding up five fingers. "There is apple cider in the refrigerator, and the orchard is full of ripe apples ready to eat. You want to wear a jacket the minute the sun goes behind a cloud."
The girl got goosebumps on her arms just thinking about the crisp autumn nights. She sat up, holding the last of her lemonade, and exclaimed, "And it is my birthday when the sun warms us up every day, when we swim outside, and when we eat lots of popsicles."
"Yes," the boy laughed. "That is exactly how you know."
Just then, a bird named Robin the Robin swooped past on dark wings, fluttering down to say hello when she caught sight of their picnic.
"Hi, Robin," they both waved as she landed softly in the sand.
"Hello, children," she sang in a high, musical voice.
"Would you like some lunch? All we have left are crumbs," the boy said, looking down at the pink blanket.
"Crumbs are all I need," Robin said. "Thank you."
She settled onto the corner of the blanket and pecked happily at the leftover bread.
"Robin, how do you know you are three on your third birthday?" the boy asked, hoping for a bird's perspective to help explain things.
Robin paused her munching, her dark eyes shimmering with delight at the question. She looked closely at the little girl with the pink flower tucked behind her ear.
"You know you are turning three because you just are," Robin answered gently. "It is not about what you can do, what you can say, or what people expect you to be. On your birthday, and every other day of the year, you can just be ME-years-old and not worry about anything else."
Both children looked at each other and nodded. That made perfect sense.
"Happy birthday," Robin said. "Everyone is ready for your party this afternoon. Shall we go see the neighbors?"
The girl clapped and the boy grinned. They stood up and folded the pink blanket together. As Robin flew ahead to lead the way, the cousins strolled down the warm beach toward the orchard at the center of the neighborhood.
The girl was three. The boy was four. The robin was a bit older.
They had each other, and they were looking forward to a celebration with all of their friends. It was not about what they could do or say. They loved each other, and they held onto that. Best of all, each of them liked knowing they were exactly ME-years-old that day, and every day after.
