Night of the Hurricane
"How much further?" It was my daughter who chanted that question for what was probably the dozenth time since leaving the church
parking lot early that morning. Add to that the times each of the other children asked that same question and I knew we'd probably
answered it at least once every mile for the last hundred miles, or so it seemed.

"You're turn to answer," Gordon said, flashing me a teasing smile as he looked at me in the rear view mirror.

"We only have about thirty miles to go. A little over half an hour," I quickly translated, knowing that would be the next question. But
I'd been wrong.

"I'm hungry Mom. Can't we stop to eat." That was my son, Matthew, who's stomach seemed a bottomless pit, in spite of the snacks
I'd provided throughout the trip that had started before the first morning light.

"It's still too early for lunch," I replied. "But I do have some fruit to snack on before we go to the aquarium."
I'd had my doubts about bringing a lively bunch of nine through eleven year old kids to Baltimore's Inner Harbor, but had only myself
to blame. I'd been the one to make up the list of places where our church Caravan Group, comprised of third and fourth graders, could
take their annual summer field trip. I myself had swayed toward Gettysburg, and I knew Gordon had been more interested in the Little
League Museum in Williamsport.

When the kids picked Baltimore and the Inner Harbor area, it hadn't seemed much further. Distance was one of the factors when we
planned these annual trips. Any place of significant interest that we could do in one day. We could leave early and return late, but
never stayed the night.

I sometimes wondered what was worse, confined in a vehicle with a bunch of exhausted youngsters, or trying to oversee them for an
entire night booked into a hotel. Yet, I knew economics had more to do with it than practicality. Many of our youth came from homes
with limited finances, with just a single parent to pay the expense.

That was the case with me, having two children to pay for whenever we traveled. With twins you get twice everything, expense, worry
and. . .

"Mom, thank you for taking us on this trip," I heard my daughter say from her seat behind me.

What was that I 'd been thinking? Twice everything, including twice the love.