“I am not sure if you know how much your card meant to my father,” I shared with a person from my father’s church. She nodded politely. If she could have seen my father’s smile, she would have understood it better. “Thirty-two cards!” he announced to me, one day in December. “Can you believe it?” His eyes misted with tears, but they were joyful tears.
We decided that they needed to be displayed in a prominent place, so I strung them across the television stand. “They won’t all fit,” he remarked, rather proudly. Remembering how my mother-in-law always taped her cards on the banisters, I climbed on a chair to tape them on the window frame.
When I return to Michigan, it may be time to take them down, but I want him to do something else with these cards. They definitely added joy to his life and reminded him of people who care.
A Journey Worth Remembering 