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My Backyard Is for Baseball
Growing More Than Flowers
By Karna Converse
Yes, I've accepted, and will even say I'm happy with, my baseball backyard. In my backyard, they can celebrate their home runs. Times when they find that best friend to share their secrets with, when they discover a skill that becomes a passion, and when they're invited to participate in a special activity. These are the times my backyard is part of a warm, loving home that celebrates with them.
But my backyard is also a place they can be frustrated about striking out. Times when they pour the milk, and it sloshes on the table, when they're not invited to join the neighborhood baseball game and when the teacher comments on their messy handwriting. These are the times my backyard is a safe, protected haven where they can be sad or hurt or angry, a plae free of ridicule and full of hugs.