And then there’s Anna- who is the middle child in the Spencer-Berg household, sandwiched between a spectacularly gifted older sister and an irrepressibly charming and energetic younger brother. . . but what a lovely thing she is herself, inside and out. We were sad that her older sister was gone during our visit but the one silver lining was that it maybe allowed us to have more of an opportunity to focus on Anna, who is a bit quieter and perhaps apt to blend in with a woodwork just a bit, but who has a wonderful beauty all her own. One thing that seems to set her apart from Aidan is that Anna is not likely to ever offer to play the violin for you or sing a song for you. . . she prefers to be invited. (I think I was very much the same way at her age. Now just try to shut me up!) One of our favorite Anna stories was from when she was much younger – maybe four or five – and kathy and I and Marshall were visiting Decorah. (It was probably for my 20th reunion, so it would have been 5 and a half years ago.) We had heard that Anna was a wonderful singer and were anxious to hear her with our own ears, but as we all sat in a booth in Decorah’s Subway restaurant, Randi was not making quick progress with her young daughter. Finally, Randi pulled this precious, innocent little girl close to her and whispered “I’ll give you a quarter.” There was just something so hilariously funny about this surreptitious little bribe – the most wholesome version one could imagine of the kind of bribes that used to take place in back rooms filled with cigar smoke between grizzled politicians. (And by the way, it worked- She sang for us.)
She sings so sweetly (this time serenading us with “Wouldn’t it be Loverly”) and plays the violin very well – but what I especially love about Anna is her compassion for others. As Kathy and I walked with her to the Decorah Co-Op to pick up lunch and as I sat waiting with her for our sandwiches to be finished, she was telling me about some of her friends- and almost every single one ended up being a story that involved someone being mistreated in some way and of how Anna loved being their friend. And it’s not that she was telling me this in any sort of “Ta Da! Look at me!” sort of way. Very quietly and thoughtfully, she would describe how someone might sometimes be treated meanly- and it didn’t take long to realize that for Anna this is where the Great Dividing Line is in the world. . . and the crucial choice one can make . . . whether or not to be mean. And it’s very clear where Anna has taken her stand, albeit in a very gentle way that warms my heart.
As we sat together at Mabe’s the first night and I spied Kathy and Anna having fun together, I found myself wishing that Geographical Distance could somehow be wished away, so this beautiful young girl could be a more frequent presence in our lives and vice versa so we could do a whole lot more Aunting and Uncling. (Truth be told, Kathy is a much better Aunt than I am an Uncle, although I really try to resist what is always my natural tendency to settle into a chair with a good book when I should be giving undiluted attention to the niece or nephew at hand.) Fortunately, Anna and her siblings are being deluged by love – from their parents, their devoted nanny, and a circle of caring friends; the so-called Village which is raising them is doing a very fine job. And if all Kathy and I can be are occasional visitors from another village in a faraway land called Racine, at least we are a small part of it all. Actually, it brings to mind something that one of the participants at this last Grace Institute retreat told me on the last day. He asked if I was going to be back with them for any of their remaining retreats, but I told him sadly I don’t return to Grace until the start of a new cycle of retreats- to which he replied with a wistful smile, “I know you have other vineyards you need to be tending.” It’s a poetic way of saying that we can’t do everything we want to do. . . but that doesn’t do much to curb the regret, especially when it comes to those things which are so incredibly important – – – like loving the good girls and good boys in our lives who live too far away.
pictured: Anna from a year or two ago, when she was missing her front teeth. I love the smile.