I did have a surprise when I opened the
newspaper this morning. An article I
wrote about our Bethlehem Street Market and Craft Fair was printed today, along
with a rather frightening head shot of me.
If nothing else I hope it helps spread the word about the event. Or maybe we can use it to scare away some mice.
I remembered another anecdote from our
family Thanksgiving experience. My
younger brother’s wife and daughter stopped by to say hello one of the days
Josh and his family were here. The
daughter, Amy, is a mere wisp of a thing to look at, but underneath the
fragile-looking exterior looms a hidden explosion of talent and training. She works for, well, someplace mysterious that she is not at liberty to name and is a black belt of
some outrageous degree in tae kwan do (if that’s how you spell it). Josh is several years her elder, and he has
trouble getting past his memories of the early years. In fact when he thinks of Amy, he can only
come up with one image in his head.
One time when they were both much younger
we were all at Uncle Jerry’s house fishing and having a good time. The little ones had been warned numerous
times about getting too close to the water and other typical live-near-the-water
rules and regulations. One of the
allures at the canal-front house was always the big, box-shaped crab trap. It offered all the mystery and anticipation
that a child can hope for. And all with
only one real warning attached. The warning
actually sounded kind of silly at the time: Remember to let go of the crab trap
when you throw it back into the water.
Well, that day Amy was excited.
She was going to toss the trap back into the water all by herself. Come on, now.
What child isn’t excited at such prospects? So much is involved. Trust of the adults. Showing off skill and musculature. Not to mention the inevitable thrill of
capturing those sea creatures and adding their succulent neat to a fine
gumbo. And so she tossed … and forgot to
let go. The trap reached its apex and
began its descent into the watery depths … with Amy still attached. Now Josh happened to be the one standing
right next to the horrifying sight. And
to his everlasting credit, he managed to keep his cool. So much so in fact that he didn’t even bother
to put down his fishing pole. Instead he
merely reached down with one hand and swooped Amy up from the sea and placed
her back on dry land. A hero, to be
sure. Of course, the water was only a few feet deep where she
landed, but the fear was real, and the heroic response just as memorable.
And so with that memory still fresh in his
mind after twenty-plus years, Josh harrumphed a casual challenge toward Amy. “Mysterious
place of employment that she is not at liberty to name, huh?
She’ll have to take me down to the ground before I’d respect her in that
role. After all, I saved her life.” To that young Amy, young wisp-of-a-thing Amy,
quite simply and oh-so matter-of-factly replied, “I can do that.” A brief hush fell over the crowd as the
reality sunk in that indeed she could do that. Finally Kel broke the silence as he fumbled
through his pockets. “Hold on. I want to see that. In fact, let me get my phone out and I’ll
record it.”
Sadly for the spectators, though, there was
no ensuing battle royale. Happily for
Josh, Amy bowed to the non-violent teachings of her sensei, which no doubt went
something like: “It’s enough to know you can beat him to within an inch of his
life. You don’t have to prove it.” How do I know what her teacher would have
said? I guess I don’t really. See, her teacher is my little brother. I’m just hoping that’s what he would say
concerning any potential scuffle with me.
Psalms 42:2 says, “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?”
Father, give me that that kind of thirst
for you. Amen.
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