Heroes

It has been quite a day and we've just arrived at nap time.

One thought is growth sprurts contribute to a three year old's meltdown quotient.

I think it could be teaching the word "please" to a self centered person, but I am no expert...

THey are working on our portion of the street today. Digging a trench to lay new gas pipe.

We counted 6 tractors of various shapes and sizes. Each one operated by men bigger than life itself.

At least through the eyes of a three year old boy.

He brought his orange plastic cement mixer from his toy box and held it in his hands as he watched his heroes work.

Dust clouds from the backhoe scoop kissing his face as the ground shook from the compacting tool on the end of another tractor pressing into the recently dumped dirt.

He had a smile on his face and I was melting inside.

Doesn't each of us want that kind of freedom to connect with our hero?

The minutes went by, but time was irrelevant. This was sacred. Alas, mixed with masks and posturing and pressure to get the job done on time.

Amidst all the action and noise I could hear a pin drop.

My melting heart transforming, no, more like being revealed for the longing for innocence once again.

I loved the time. With my son, who again is pointing to the kingdom.

Here and now.

It is not want I thought it would be.