"Mother and Child Walk"
   This is a watercolour I made based on a profile picture of someone on Facebook. I had that person's permission to draw this picture. I wanted to show the special bond between a mother and son.
   As I look at this picture I think back to the late 80's when my wife and I and our son, who was just one year old, spent Christmas with my grandfather in Florida. After he picked us up at the airport he took us to a diner where we ordered lunch. As we sat there spoon feeding our son, we became aware of a elderly woman and a younger man across the room, who were observing us and seemingly discussing us. It was becoming uncomfortable and a bit worrisome. But after a few minutes the man came over, and in a soft tone he apologized for staring. He explained that he was there with his mother and that they were watching us as we fed our son. He apologized again and said that they did not mean to make us uncomfortable. He went on to explain that his mother was reminded of how she and her husband used to feed him when he was a child. He added that they were there to have something to eat after the funeral. They just came from the burial of his father.
   I felt a huge lump on my throat. Wendy and I took our son over to greet that man's mom, and we expressed our deep sympathies and told her that we were deeply touched by her story.
   That was over thirty years ago and I still remember it as if it was yesterday. I doubt that she is still alive today, and I regret not getting her contact information so that I could tell her how much she had touched us back then.
   And I think that some day that may be my wife or me, staring across the room at a young couple feeding their child.
   As you go through your life, may you cherish all those small moments with your children - the walks in the forest, playing ball at the beach, or feeding them pablum in their high chair.
   In the words of that song: "Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate.
   Time falls away, but these small hours still remain."
   Remember the small hours.
