Yesterday was my Grandson Thomas’ first birthday, and today about 80 relatives and a few of his parents’ friends gathered to celebrate in a large park not far from my home. The weather was perfect; agreeably warm with a slightly cool refreshing breeze.
I’m so proud of Thomas that I risk busting a button just thinking about him.
He was given a small cake all for himself, and ripped into it with both hands, quickly smashing and kneading it while stuffing great big gooey gobs of it into his mouth with the excitement of a person who is dying of thirst as they take great gulps from a cool pool of water at an oasis.
Thomas then proceeded to “share” with his mom and each of his grandmothers by extending those same sticky, messy, gooey, slimy, hands toward each of them until they came over and took a bite from them. (The two wily grandfathers and the father, seeing what was about to happen to our spouses, beat a hasty retreat and were out of sight (and thankfully out of mind) during that critical episode–though he couldn’t see us, we could see what he was doing to them. It was a LOT of fun to watch!
It was a beautiful day filled with many blessings, and ended with a sight that made me especially proud and happy. While the remaining party-goers began cleaning up after the party, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that our oldest son and his wonderful wife had slipped away with a large pizza box filled with pizza without saying a word to anyone.
They walked over to a homeless man who was sitting quietly and motionless on a park bench across a path from us and perhaps 50 feet away. He had his back to us and clearly did not wish to intrude on our festivities or perhaps even be seen by us. A few words were exchanged, and they handed the box to him and quietly returned to our busy cleanup crew. When they returned, no words were spoken about what had just happened, and I doubt if anyone else had even seen what they had done. But their kind action made a proud dad and grandfather even prouder today.