Fiddler Beneath The Roof

A man never stands so tall as when he leans over to help a child. ~Abraham Lincoln I was signing my children’s book at a little music festival in our Tennessee town last weekend. It was a beautiful day until, seemingly out of nowhere, black clouds darkened the sky. The ensuing rain forced us (and several others) to take cover underneath a pavilion. It was there that we met a simple hero—a hero who made an impact on a child; my child. His name is Jim…an 81-year old Arkansas farm boy who grew up plowing cotton fields behind a mule and later became a United States Air Force Major. Now retired, Jim travels around to these kinds of festivals to …

Everyday Hero

Are there heroes anymore? On a small porch, in front of small house, there is a small bench. I never paid too much attention to it before. It faded into the background of life’s canvas like so many things do. It’s quiet today. It’s quiet every day. My neighbor Bill lives here. Of course his name is Bill. Perfect really; a simple name for a simple man. Bill is almost 80. He speaks with a southern drawl that’s as thick as his glasses. He has thinning, snow-white hair. His leathery skin suggests that he has spent his share of time on the golf course. Like that old small bench, he’s a bit weathered but still strong. His laugh is contagious. …