The Gift

This is not just a piece of limestone with a hole in it being held by my nine year old son. This is one of my most treasured items. I found it today. While kicking around in the river gorge in a place we call fossil valley, I picked this up, showed it to my son and set it back down. Knowing I like rocks with holes in them he questioned why I didn't want to put in my pocket and take it home. It was too big for my pocket and I didn't want to carry it all the way back home. That was the end of it, I thought. As we climbed over the fence at the top of gorge a long sad look fell upon his face as he reached deep into his pockets, desperately looking for something that was gone. It was this rock. He had picked it up when I wasn't looking and put into his pocket to bring it home for me. Somewhere between picking it up and climbing the hill away from the river it had fallen out. My heart melted at that moment. Of course, we scrambled back down the hill and retraced our steps. It was exactly where he had last known it to be secure in his pocket. No other gift has the same meaning. If I have just one possession, let it be this one.