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The Gifts God Gives

Thirty years ago under slightly different circumstances, this was me.  I was in the first grade without teeth, dragging my bag home alone as I rounded the block onto Columbine Street.  And not that it matters so much, but I was looking down, completely oblivious to anything but the sidewalk in front of me…already burdened with life.  Which was why I didn’t see him at first.  My dad. Crouched on his knees in the middle of the broken sidewalk some ten feet away, arms open wide.  Just waiting for me to look up.

I do not remember closing the gap…or even my mother holding her camera.  But somewhere in an album dated 1980, there’s a picture of my school bag and me wrapped around my dad’s neck.  And he’s still kneeling on the ground.  I could not have been happier.

Now in 2010…

This is is my daughter.  In the first grade.  Toothless.  And hugging her dad.  Only he’s not just coming home like mine was.  He’s got a plane to catch. 

It’s just somehow the sentiment is the same. 

He loves her…She adores him.  Ain’t no better place than in his arms.

Here’s the lot of them.  My little fam.  The ones God gave me.  The ones I love.

Ahh…thank you, Lord.

For each of them.

Amen.

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2 Responses to “The Gifts God Gives”

  1. The Man says:

    I love the blog. I am also trying not to be mad I left my cell in the taxi. I will do my best to get it back tomorrow. I am in room 119 call and leave me a message to let me know you got it. Thanks.

    Sleep well

  2. Linda H says:

    Very sweet – You are truely blessed to have such a lovely family.

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