We can’t afford European trips. Not right now, maybe not for a while. Honestly, even Disney World is a stretch. But as a family, we have made a goal of going on a family trip every year for the rest of our lives, and if I’m good at one thing, it’s getting creative. Enter, the 8 hour radius. I looked at our home and the surrounding cities. Where could we go that would be good for us, good for the kids, affordable, and driveable? New Orleans fit the bill. But why do I care? Why allot money towards travel when we have debt? Dave Ramsey would be agast. The thing is, the world is wide and I want my kids to know it. In fact it feels Biblical. God, in His kindness, gave us beauty, and it’s there for the sharing. We gave our children the gift of a family vacation and New Orleans gave us so much back.

The first thing New Orleans gave us was color. Not just painted walls, though those were everywhere, but color in the way people dressed, the way homes leaned into their own uniqueness. Shiny beads hung from trees, the ferns were a deep green, and the New Orleans brick red was dotted with air plants tucked into crevices and crumbly spots. The patina on New Orleans was everything.

It gave us music. It slipped out of open doorways and drifted down the street, wrapped around us while we waited for the trolley, followed us from one place to the next. We saw professional bands and street bands, delicate jazz and twangy zydeco.

It gave us food. Powdered sugar on small fingers. Warm beignets shared across the table, cayenne in everything. The seafood-oh the seafood. I had a redfish dish that changed my life, blackened tuna, crap-stuffed beignets, a bananas foster that would make you cry. And we barely scratched the surface.

It gave us culture. You just step into it and realize you are the visitor. The houses look different. People sound different. From the gritty streets to the swamp, it just was different and hopefully made my girls feel small in all the best ways.

It gave us character. I want them to know what it’s like to be somewhere unfamiliar and still find their footing. To sit at a table with food they’ve never tried and be brave enough to taste it. To hear stories in accents different from their own and lean in instead of pulling back. My girls had tired feet, blisters, tangly hair, and very little sleep, but they were such troopers.

And maybe one day, when they are grown, they won’t remember every street name or every meal.But I hope they remember the feeling of it all.
Being together in a place, learning without realizing it, laughing in the middle of unfamiliar surroundings, and knowing they belonged right there anyway.

We want our girls to grow up understanding that the world is not theirs to conquer, but to love.