Last evening, after the all-day seminar, Beth and I went walking along the canal. It was hot outside, but people were running, walking, biking, and paddle-boating around us. An outdoor cafe was getting ready for a jazz night. People had to pay to sit close, but across the canal, you could sit and listen for free.

One paddle boat slowly passed us, completely laden with people. It was an Amish or Mennonite family (I'd guess Amish, but Brett made me second guess my original assumption), a total of 8 people, mostly little ones. They were facing this way and that - every direction - so that all could fit in there. The parents were the ones at the wheel, as it were, paddling and steering. One tiny little boy, with the hat and everything, was facing backwards, his little red cheeks accenting his sweaty little face and the blonde hair plastered to his head underneath his hat. The oldest child could not have been more than 10.

I know it's probably patronizing to say "oh my gosh, that is precious," but it was on a couple of different levels. First, it was a huge family all together in one very small space at the same time. They weren't arguing or yelling, in fact, they seemed to be getting along rather well. All the kids were behaving themselves in public. They were out for an afternoon jaunt on the canal. And the lifestyles that they (and their clothes) represent always make me smile, a more simple way of living. More simple life. Not simple as in lower or less valid or less fulfilling. In fact, probably the opposite.

As I told Beth and Brett, I tried to capture that moment, the picture of that giant family in a paddle boat, and hold it in my memory.