Pure innocence

Those of you who know me already know what I’m about to write, and have been waiting to see it in print. I was told before coming a grandparent what a wonderful thing it was and how it was going to be. And, of course, I was excited about the prospect, but I didn’t think there was much out there to compare to being in the delivery room when my children were born. Friends, I have had my eyes opened, once again.

This little baby girl, besides being the prettiest thing I ever saw, has transformed me into a believer that there is always something new and wonderful to experience. I have to see her almost every day to convince myself it is still real. And my wife, well, she can’t stop smiling, and the glow that grandma carries around is evident to all. And, being the smart one, she figured it out. She gets her babies back. And so she does.

Joy absolutely surrounds us. Was that a smile? No, that was a gas pain, you doting old man. Look, she’s trying to hold her head up. Oh, how wonderful, a messy diaper, and grandma gets to change her. My friends, my best wish for you is that you get to experience such a wonderful blessing. And, I know, life is sometimes hard, but God is good, and this 7 lb. 7 oz. miracle is pure love and joy.

More Babies

A couple of days ago, after supper, we were sitting down to read the paper and watch the news, and Linda saw a deer out the back window. I looked, and there was a very agitated whitetail, standing on the hill in the firehouse lot. She immediately marched into our back field, where the grass is short, and turned around and looked back from whence she came.

I saw two small brown spots moving in the high grass. When they came into the mowed field, I could hardly believe my eyes. The fawns were still very wobbly, and couldn’t have been more than a few hours old.

The doe marched across the field, and jumped the fence. The little ones wobbled along, but couldn’t keep up. And when they got to the fence, they were completely flummoxed, and begin walking down the fence line.

About 20 yards above where the doe jumped the fence, there is a break in the fence, intentionally made by my wife a year or two ago, when she saw fawns having difficulty following their mother. I called Linda, and we approached the little guys to try to herd them back towards the opening. I was afraid we would spook them, and they would run off and not find the opening.

To my amazement, as we approached, one of them stopped in his tracks, but the other one saw us and began walking straight towards us, as if to say, what are you, and can you help me find my mother? It was pure innocence. It had no idea of fear or flight. It was innocent and curious.

The other one, instinctively, lay down under a big peony busy and curled up in a tiny ball. The curious fellow followed us around like a lap dog. The humans finally came to their senses, and retreated into the house, hoping mom would come back and all would be well.

I would love to tell you that all ended well, and it may have. Early the next morning, I went out to the row of peonies, and the smart little guy was gone. I looked around a bit, and saw nothing, and breathed a sigh of relief. Later in the day, I found the other fawn, alive and curled in a ball, between an old wagon and the shed. I went and put on a long sleeve shirt and gloves, and carried him, still in a little ball, over into the adjoining field where the grass is high and I last saw the doe, and tucked him up under some honeysuckle. I went back the next morning, and he was gone. I hope he made it.

Goodbye, My Friend

Without Anita Sherman, the editor of this paper, there would have been no columns from this writer. Through her coaching, coaxing and encouragement, I found the nerve to start this venture, and it has been a good exercise for me, and, I trust, for you.

Anita, I hope your new position brings you wonderful new horizons, engaging associations and relationships, and personal fulfillment. You can be proud of what you have accomplished as editor of the Rappahannock News. You have done a great job. Good luck and farewell, my friend.