Tuesday. Ninety-five year old Solomon is on his way back home from the shoe repair store...
Anyway, there I was, resting on the churchyard bench, with my resoled shoes in a bag and my cane propped alongside me. From the side door of the church came a small group of people. A proud father carried a baby, who was wearing a long white christening gown. I stood as they walked by me and tipped my hat. Out of respect, I guess. They reminded me of Rose and me and our firstborn. People tipped their hats back then. I guess I looked a little odd, but they just smiled. The beaming mother positioned the baby, so I could see it. I said, “What a beautiful baby.” And it happened again. The baby locked eyes with me and smiled a knowing smile, smiled in recognition! I looked up at the parents, astonished once again. But they thought I was astonished by the charm of their baby, said, “Thank you,” and left. I faltered to the bench, and for some reason clutched the shoe bag and cane for all I was worth. What was going on here? Something new was happening. Ole Life was at his tricks again.
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