Last week, or the week before (time flies past me at rocket speed), the day the pope died, Frank was playing but stopped to watch some of the coverage on the news. The crowd in Rome was mixed, but some people were crying. This perplexed him. He came to me and said (excitedly), “Today is his happiest day ever! He gets to go to heaven!” Whatever forces are working to make my son so sensitive and always-looking-for-the-silver-lining and just downright sweet, I thank them.
Yesterday I asked him to make a birthday card for our pastor since we were going to be having dinner with him. He was very concerned he get it right and at first was hesitant and he said, “Mama, I don’t know how to make a birthday card for a pastor.” I reassured him and Doug helped him. Before we left he came up to me and whispered, “Pastor H. is my favorite, but please don’t tell Pastor S. that.”
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