, , ,

Sunday, I took the Boy, my sister and niece to the snow for the last ski weekend of the season. Only when we got to Sugar Bowl, the main lodge, Judah, was closed. So, we headed back down the road and bought a sled.


Back at the ski resort, we first started sledding at the bottom of one of the ski runs but that was slow and boring. Behind us was an empty run. Only how were we going to get to the top without a lift.


First my niece and the Boy conquered that hill on foot. Awesome. He was such a trooper. Then, after much begging, he went a second and third time with me. By our third time, another family had joined us on the perfect sledding hill.

Halfway up they stopped to rest on a stump and take a picture. Mom was taking a photo of dad and daughter. I asked if they wanted me to take the shot so they could all be in it. They did. Then I made a deal with them. I would take their picture and they would take ours. Only my camera was at the bottom of the run with my niece so she could film us flying down the hill on the sled. (I needed proof). They would have to take our photo with their camera phone and text it to me. They agreed, happily.

As we sat to take the picture, the Boy leans in to me and asks, as quietly as a loud five-year-old could be (not at all), “do you know those people?”

The mother, hearing him, smiled at me. I smiled back and turned to the Boy.

“No. They are just nice people having fun like us. ”


There is a fine line between teaching trust and guarding against stranger danger. The Boy is leery of everything and everyone. A bit of trust by an adult of another adult was beautifully modeled for him. I did not miss the photo opportunity or the teaching moment.