I watched them as they pulled in beside our truck, the back seat of their multi-colored, gas-guzzling car consumed with fold-up chairs and chattering babies. The woman driving the colossal vehicle hopped out from behind the wheel and went directly to the rear of the car, just missing the chubby, soiled hand that had somehow burrowed its way through all of the backseat clutter in an attempt to grab her as she whizzed by. Those babies in the back squealed with delight as she shouted out, “Watch out! Momma’s trying to get the snacks!” With that, she threw open the trunk and pulled out jumbo sized bags of chips, a 12-pack of Diet Pepsi, three packages of peanut M&Ms, and an apple green cooler.
The front passenger door opened, and two other ladies stepped out; obviously sisters. I was quite sure some of the little ones, now bouncing around in anticipation, belonged to them. One of the moms opened up the back door, unfastened child safety seats and buckles, and four petite, strawberry blonde toddlers popped out from amid the army green chairs, their stained hands and faces glowing. Their faded old chariot seemed to sigh with relief as chairs and blankets were unloaded and scattered about in preparation for the Caribou Cares About Kids parade that was about to begin. The driver of the car, and obvious leader, assigned each toddler a chair, a blanket, and a drink. The other moms opened up the cooler, sat the snacks carefully on one of the chairs, and settled into their seats.
I was mesmerized. Four bright little heads sat quietly, sipping their fizzy sodas and swinging their bare feet in perfect synchronization as they patiently waited for the show to begin. The three mothers kept careful watch over their children. Laughter saturated their space and every once in a while a stray curse word would rise up from the mix and quickly dissolve into the busy air: no harm done.
I saw no bananas, cups of yogurt, bottles of spring water or string cheese pulled from the cooler; only sandwiches wrapped tightly in tin foil and served with fistfuls of the salty, rippled chips. The M&Ms were obviously the dessert!
From time to time, one of the moms would step away momentarily to make a call on her cell phone; her eyes never wandering from the group. Once the parade began, however, all seven sat in their chairs, still and attentive. The babies were not allowed to leave their chairs to pick up the candy that was tossed gently their way by parade participants. The moms told them once the parade had passed, they could claim their treasures.
When the festivities were complete and the priceless parade treats had been gathered, the little ones pulled their collapsible camp chairs to the back seat of the car, climbed in and sat quietly while their mothers secured them in their seats and loaded everything back into the car. The driver of the charming old vehicle passed by me one last time, grinning as she took her place behind the wheel. “Great parade!” she said, her voice sounding tired. I agreed, told her to have a nice weekend and watched the car and its precious cargo drive away, its worn and tattered interior vibrant with the wonder that is love.
Editor’s Note: Belinda Wilcox Ouellette has lived in the Caribou area for all of her 56 years. She presently lives in Connor TWP. with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
