When I was growing up, my family always had older model cars that were most often in "
less than perfect" condition. For some odd reason, my family had a tradition of naming our cars. We had the Golden Goose, Betsy, etc., etc. These names represented our sentiment toward our car; a term of endearment.
In addition to naming our car, we would also talk to our car. There were many mornings when, due to a bad starter, our car would sputter and not start. Whenever this happened, my mother would pat it on the top of the dashboard and say, "
come on Betsy" and just like clockwork, the car would start up. If we were running low on fuel, Mom would make a special plea, "just get us home, Betsy" and sure enough, we would make it safely to our destination with plenty of fuel to spare. It was magical. . . .as if our car had some sense of loyalty to the family, . . . as if our car knew that it had a special mission of transporting our rather large family to a fro safely. Of course these conversations with our car were always followed by my mother making the sign of the cross as a way of asking God to travel with us.
These were the traditions that as kids, we never thought to question. Looking back at these memories really makes me laugh. I think if I named my car or held conversations with it, my kids would probably really worry about me. I guess as kids, we never though to question it. We really thought that our Mom had
superpowers and when she talked, our car listened! Although I have never named any of my cars, I still hold the tradition of asking God to travel with us on any road trip. . . that's mandatory! ♥
