It was a lesson that had taken me far too long to learn myself.

“Are those real mountains, Grandma?” Alice pressed her face to the airplane window, eyes wide with wonder as the range came into view, peaks still snowcapped in early April.

“Those are real mountains,” I confirmed, enjoying her excitement, “and tomorrow we’ll be right up there among them.”

Spring break had arrived, and with it our long-anticipated adventure.

To my surprise, Rebecca and Philip had honored our agreement without resistance, helping Alice pack and delivering her to the airport with only the normal parental reminders about brushing teeth and wearing sunscreen.

“Daddy seemed sad when we left,” Alice observed, finally turning from the window.