'Tis the gift to be simple (2)
As I walked out with Penne at about 3:00 p.m.today I happened upon some "strangers".
I saw a youngish couple as they fished from the Gazebo at the neighbouring Glen Oaks Manor pond.
I also saw a middle aged man, as he wheeled a baby buggy in which there were two infants. A small boy (maybe aged three) raced ahead.
Then the small boy stopped, and began to cry. Something had bothered him.
Without a word, the middle-aged guy hoisted the weepy small boy onto to his shoulders. He walked on, with the infants in the buggy, and the small boy on his shoulders.
It was a lovely scene -- peace had been restored.
A bit later I walked again with Penne, Once again I came across the two guys.
I said to the older man "that was a lovely moment when you hoisted your weepy son onto your shoulders".
He responded with "that was not my son, that was my grandson".
Well I never.
The middle aged man was the grandfather. The youngish couple who were fishing were the parents of the infants in the baby buggy, and of the toddler.
Yet it was a lovely scene. It was lovely to see a grandfather (as it turns out) to be so gracious and gentle with his one generation removed youngsters.
I saw a youngish couple as they fished from the Gazebo at the neighbouring Glen Oaks Manor pond.
I also saw a middle aged man, as he wheeled a baby buggy in which there were two infants. A small boy (maybe aged three) raced ahead.
Then the small boy stopped, and began to cry. Something had bothered him.
Without a word, the middle-aged guy hoisted the weepy small boy onto to his shoulders. He walked on, with the infants in the buggy, and the small boy on his shoulders.
It was a lovely scene -- peace had been restored.
A bit later I walked again with Penne, Once again I came across the two guys.
I said to the older man "that was a lovely moment when you hoisted your weepy son onto your shoulders".
He responded with "that was not my son, that was my grandson".
Well I never.
The middle aged man was the grandfather. The youngish couple who were fishing were the parents of the infants in the baby buggy, and of the toddler.
Yet it was a lovely scene. It was lovely to see a grandfather (as it turns out) to be so gracious and gentle with his one generation removed youngsters.
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