Voices at the Fair

This year there were only eleven reported injuries at the Tulsa State Fair. One child whacked his head on a food booth and cut his face. One man sprained an ankle getting off a ride. One child fell out of the Boy Scouts Jupiter Jump and broke his arm and a lady passed out on the dreadful Sky Zipper ride.

  These were the only serious injuries I read about in the Tulsa World. All the others were too minor to list. Amazing, I'd say.

 It must be that most of those rides are not nearly as dangerous as they look. There are some real dangers at the fair though. I mean besides spending all your money on rides, junk, games, and deep-fried foods.

When I was a kid, I suffered a mishap when my daddy took the five of us to a county fair in Texas. Mama stayed home with the toddlers and the latest baby, declaring the fair a luxury we could not afford. "Now Freda," Dad replied, "There are times when a luxury becomes a necessity." (And so we went. :) )

 As we entered the fairway, I was star-struck. Everything was loud, and colorful, and bright. Everything was moving. The merry-go-round piped calliope music. People laughed, squealed, shouted, and called out. Hawkers pled with us to try our hand at their games. Rides sqeaked, squawked, rang bells, and buzzed as we passed.

 I stopped to watch the Ferris Wheel turn, but it stopped and the girls seated way up top screeched with delighted false fear as their seat swung. When I came back to earth, I saw Dad up ahead in the crowd and ran to catch up.

Zing, Zing, Wheeeeee!

 I grabbed at his big work-roughed hand, but it felt wrong. It was too soft, too old, not my Father's hand!

 The owner of the hand bent down and looked me in the eye. "I'll bet you think I'm your daddy, don't you little girl?" he asked sweetly in a not-my-daddy voice. I jerked my " little girl" hand from his, and ran and ran. I searched the crowd for my daddy. I blocked out all the noise, straining for his familiar voice. Then I heard it. I saw him and I ran to him and grabbed his hand. Ahhhh, the relief!

 The fair swirled back into focus. I was safe.

I enjoyed the rest of the day. I rode the Ferris wheel and ate a cinnamon apple and shared some pink cotton candy with my brothers.

My lost at the fair experience reminds me of the scripture that says, I am the good shepherd. My sheep know my voice and another they will not follow.

I hope I know the voice and the guiding hand of my heavenly father as well as I knew that of my earthly father.

 Oh, the fair. The fun the noise, the sights, the smells, the people.

I hadn't been to the fair in many years until this fall and I enjoyed it immensely.

 I ate a bright red candied apple just for luxury's sake.

This zipper thing would surely make anyone pass out. It scared me just watching from the ground. Oh, my!