When was the last time you rode an old-fashioned carousel?  When I was a little girl, my mother would take my brother and me to the zoo. Just outside the exit-gates was a beautiful, old-fashioned carousel. We never complained about calling it a day when the zoo closed because we knew our day wasn’t over until we had our ride on what we called “the merry-go-round.”  Although the ride was just outside the gate, it was down the sidewalk a bit and surrounded by trees and hedges.  As we walked out of the zoo, we couldn’t see it, but we could hear the faint carousel music calling to us.

I remember seeing the carousel ring machine and asking my mother what it was. She explained that it was a machine that held nineteen tarnished brass rings and one shiny gold ring. The riders on the outside horses would lean out as far as they could and try to grasp one of the rings as their horse went by the machine. Rarely did a rider get off the carousel holding one of the brass rings, and although I did see it happen once or twice, it was even more unusual to see someone lucky enough to climb down from their horse holding the golden ring. A rider who could produce a gold ring to the ticket taker received the award of a free ride.

I remember my excitement when my arms were finally long enough to reach that old ring machine.  As the carousel started to move, I got so excited about getting the chance to go for the gold my entire focus was on the machine, forgetting about the ride altogether.  It was a miracle I didn’t fall off my horse, as I stretched my little arm out as far as I could in an attempt to touch the ring machine and still stay mounted.   I remember the first time my finger slipped through the ring as it popped out of the machine onto my finger. I felt like I held the whole world on my little index finger. It didn’t matter to me the ring was brass. I genuinely didn’t care. I kept the ring on my dresser for years as a reminder of my tremendous accomplishment. It reminded me to keep trying. For me, the brass ring was a sign of hope and encouragement. I was always excited to try again.

I remember that carousel often and how it relates to my now grown-up world. Often I feel as if I’m riding a carousel, seeing the gold ring, reaching out to grab it, and missing it by a breath. I pay the price of another ride, and then another, only to find the gold ring stays just out of reach.

However, I know I’m never actually leaving empty-handed. With every ride, I have one more ride’s worth of experience. The experience teaches me I can make a few changes and adjust my technique on the next go-round.  I need to remember that coming home with a ring, brass or otherwise, is not the goal. It’s actually the ride and what we learn in our efforts that make us who we are. You never know, maybe someday with a little luck, a little patience, and a little perseverance, I may be the lucky one that walks away holding tight to that cherished gold ring. But if not, I’ve still had the blessing of a wonderful carousel ride.

Wishing you joy and peace,

Lorrie

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.  –  1 Corinthians 9:24 –