hannah and me (part ten)
a matter of tract


i wrote a few months ago about how i wished that i had a place like sarah's grandfather's house to take hannah in order to engage in the same type of trip down memory lane that her family experiences everytime they travel to cartersville, ga. if i have a place close to that, it may be east lake park. my mother's father took my brother brian and i there every time we went to his and granny's house. either to walk around the track, to fish, to play on the the playground, to feed the ducks, to fly kites, to watch flag-football games, to football practice, to eat push-up pops, etc. it was a special place.

on a whim, we took hannah to east lake park today and it revved up my dysfunctional memory banks into as close to working order as they now get when i remember back when. the park and lake had changed since i last patronized them. the grass around the lake wasn't well kept. the gravel on the sidewalk wasn't as smooth. the concession stand wasn't open. no flag football. i don't fish.

but there were ducks. the main reason for our going didn't let us down. hannah had no idea what was in store for her when we asked if she wanted to go feed the ducks. but feed the ducks she did. big ducks, baby ducks, and every duck in between tickled her as we threw them bread.

a funny thing happened to us, though, on our way around the lake. about halfway around, we were encountered by an elderly man that stopped us and asked if we were going to heaven. we told him that we hoped so, and he used the moment as an excuse to pray for us. we held hands with him and repeated his simple prayer asking god to allow us into heaven after we died. the prayer was no more complex than "now i lay me down to sleep...", but the gesture strikes me as much more now that i sit here. i imagine the man, widowed (which may or may not be the case), going home at night and waking up tomorrow, if he's lucky, to suit up and make his way back to the park to do what he feels like he can for the lord for as long as he's here.

as we left the tract carrying, praying for strangers, nice as he could be old man, sarah said, "we probably didn't need that, but i bet we just made his day." she may be right. we may not have needed that prayer and that tract, but the more sweet people that are praying for my daughter, well, i will take.

i am so tired today. this day, very well, could have come and passed without me having anything to remember it by. how quickly i have already taken for granted being home with sarah and hannah full-time. but now i have my ducks, hannah's ducks, and the old man to remind me that every day has the potential to be a great day.

thank you, sir.