Lacey Middlestead is a Montana native and freelance writer currently living in Helena, Mont. She loves meeting new people and helping share their stories. When she’s not busy writing articles for newspapers like the Independent Record and Helena Vigilante, she can usually be found indulging in her second greatest passion–playing in the Montana wilderness. She loves skiing and snowmobiling in the winter and four wheeling, hiking, boating, and riding dirt bikes in the summer.
There’s the cinnamon-y aroma of miniature donuts and funnel cakes wafting about the air. Whoops, hollers and pounding hoofs beckon from the grandstand as the rodeo commences. There’s the clanking of horse trailers shuttling about. Skimming above the tree tops are the colorful capsules of the Ferris wheel rotating about its giant axis.
You know it’s officially summer when the fair comes to town!
It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re a fan of rodeos, fried foods, carnival rides, or farm animals—most everyone flocks to their local fairgrounds each July or August to partake in at least some aspect of the fair. After all, it comes but once a year.
I remember driving by the fairgrounds when I was younger and catching that first glimpse of the Ferris wheel towering above the trees at the Lewis and Clark County Fairgrounds. That was the only sign I needed to know that one of the best weeks of summer had arrived. My best friend, Jamie, and I couldn’t get our parents to drop us off fast enough.
With rodeo dust in our hair and eyes squinted, we’d march up to the ticket stand and reach tacky cotton candy fingers into our pockets for the ride money our parents had graciously surrendered. For the next few hours we’d lose ourselves in the tilting, whirling, spinning motions of rides like the Tilt-a-Whirl and Yo-Yo. We were too young still to have much for worries in the world. But regardless, those hours spent at the fair dissolved away any stress we had about our upcoming social studies test and our fears over what we were going to grow up and be someday. We just lived purely for the moment.
As the years have passed away, the fair has lost some of its magical aura for me. I now cringe at the concession stand offering a seemingly limitless menu of deep fried items wondering how my stomach will handle it. My eyes hone in on the dilapidated nature of the rides seemingly held together by a few rusty screws. I look at the carnival workers now and feel overcome with sadness in wondering if they’d ever dreamed of doing more. And I miss having Jamie in town to take in all of the sights with me.
But this year, the fair was returned to its former glory for me……and it was all thanks to a little blond haired, blued-eyed 4 year old.
I decided to tag along with my friends, Brad and Tara, as they braved the chaotic maze of the fair all for the sake of their daughter, Camille. Like most little kids, she couldn’t wait to see all of the animals. So while her parents mingled with some friends they stumbled into, I walked Camille around to show her all of the sheep, chickens, rabbits, steer and goats.
Much to her delight, there were several small baby goats all jumbled on top of each other in one pen. Camille crouched down next to them and inched her fingers in through the fence lines. One of the goats perked his head up and nudged his mouth over to her to start sucking her fingers. Even though I knew Tara would probably try to douse Camille’s entire body in hand sanitizer if she witnessed the sight, I just couldn’t bring myself to pull her away. She was giggling in this uncontrollable, high-pitched manner I only see her do when she’s really happy.
After scoping out all of the animals, Camille grabbed my hand and yanked me towards the rides. While we were all standing in line to buy tickets, Tara asked Camille what ride she wanted to go on first. She pointed to the Ferris wheel and said she wanted to ride with me. Not being a major fan of heights, I reluctantly pulled a few crinkled dollars from my pocket to buy enough tickets to take one spin on the ride with Camille. My stomach twisted into knots when we first got on the ride and Camille naturally sat down next to me causing the entire seat to tip to one side. Once I got over my initial jitters though, I actually started to enjoy myself. Each time we approached the peak of the wheel, Camille pointed and yelled out that she could see the entire fair from where we were. And we really could.
The last ride I saw Camille go on was the little dragon roller coaster. To date, that is still the only real rollercoaster my scaredy-cat self can admit to going on. Brad seemed a little hesitant to let Camille brave the ride for the first time, but she was adamant she wanted to go on it. After slipping her down into one of the green cars next to another little girl, Brad joined me along the fence surrounding the ride to watch. I think we were both prepared for screams and waterworks, but what followed when the lever was pulled to start the ride still has me laughing.
After rounding the first half of the track, Camille finally came into our sights. She had—hands down—one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen on her face. Her head was tilted back and her mouth open in a full-tooth grin.
“That’s pure happiness right there,” Brad said laughing and snapping photos on his phone.
And it was. It really was. It got even better when the carnival worker let Camille and the other kids stay on and go for a second ride free of charge. I do believe Camille’s smile may just have prompted that unprecedented act of generosity.
As adults, we often chuckle at the all too easy-to-amuse nature of children. We wonder if we too were really like that once….and can’t help but ask ourselves what caused that delightful quality to disappear. I guess it’s just one of the consequences of growing up. But watching Camille that day reminded me just how little it takes to truly be happy in this world. And I couldn’t help but wonder if one of the reasons behind why everyone has kids is so that they can continually relive the wonders of their childhood through the light and smiles in their children’s eyes.