Fledgling




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" September 19, 2001 Volume 1, Issue 36 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com -------------------------------------------------------- By subscription only! Welcome to your next issue of "WRITE 2 THE HEART" You are receiving this FREE newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. ----------------------------------------------------- As parents we know the day comes when our children leave home. No matter how many you have sent out ahead of them, it is still an emotional time. ------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------- The Fledgling By: Cheryl Speir --------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------- Once upon a time, there was a toddler that would grab and hug my legs as I did the dishes each night. “Momma, come sit down in the rocking chair and let me hold you,” he would say. That was my cue to stop what I was doing and rock Timmy to sleep. As I would rock, I would look down on that sweet chubby cheeked face, still sweet smelling from his bath, trying to catch a glimpse of the man he would become. This little toddler had two speeds, full speed ahead and complete stop. All day he wanted to play tee-ball. He would hit the ball off of his homemade tee and run his imaginary bases. Each time he ran, the bases would move, but each time he congratulated himself on a homerun. In my minds eye, I still see that smiling face running triangles, circles and other geometric patterns in our front yard to achieve his homerun. At the end of the day, it would be my turn to run a race to get him bathed and fed before he fell asleep each night. We have a picture that shows a night I lost the race. He is asleep on the couch with a piece of barbeque chicken in his hands. It was in route to his mouth when he fell over backwards asleep with it smeared all over his face. One minute he was having supper, the next, sound asleep. In moments of happiness, he would throw plump little arms around my neck and tell me how much he loved me. “You know what, Momma, one day I am going to build you a castle.” I would smile with pleasure knowing this was the best he could think to offer and he was offering it to me. He was born believing he was sent to shape up this family. He was the official timekeeper. At eighteen months he would sit in the rocking chair each morning and at exactly eight o’clock jump up saying, “Come on Momma, get the boys it’s eight o’clock, it’s time to go, we’re going to be late.” He was twelve before he realized his family was a hopeless case. It was then he began setting his own goals and working to fulfill them. He believed if he wanted something bad enough there would be a way to achieve it. The years have passed with grade school, high school, sports programs, proms and college. Too soon the toddler has grown into this young man standing before me. No longer called Timmy, but Tim. When I hug him, I pull back to see if there is any trace of the chubby cheeked toddler left in this young man. There is. I find it in the curve of his cheeks and his smile that always crinkles the corners of his eyes. Today I have to touch him every time I pass near him. I have to stand on my toes to hug him. He feels the same way and seeks me out just to be near me. I laugh and joke with him as he packs his bag for boot camp. I watch as he places his well worn and thumbed through Bible in his backpack along with his toiletries. I notice he took his dad’s tube of toothpaste. Somehow, I don’t think dad will mind. “I know you want to go, but I wish it wasn’t like this,” I tell him, feeling the weight of the recent terrorist attacks. He smiles and gently says, ”Everyone has to leave the nest sometime. I can’t say home forever.” The toot of a horn tells us his ride is here. Jeremy comes and lets us know in case we didn’t hear it. Tim gives me a bear hug and tells me he loves me and will miss me. I keep a smile on my face as I walk with him to the front door. Stopping in the hall, he and his younger brother hug their farewells. “Later, man,” they tell each other. He hugs his Aunt Mindy and tells her bye. “Tell Dad I’ll call him tonight.” He walks down the front porch steps and takes three steps down the pavement toward the car. Quickly he turns, comes back and hugs me one more time. “Bye Mom, I’m going to miss you,” he whispers in my ear. If there weren't a huge lump in my throat, I would probably cry. He turns one more time and with a smooth jump to clear the steps, my fledgling leaves the nest. Cheryl Speir moderator@write2theheart.com -------------------------------------------------------- Tim left Monday afternoon on his way to his ARMY National Guard boot camp. Our family's love and prayers go with him. -------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------- FROM OUR READERS -------------------------------------------------------- BOTH works by Maggie Scott were insightful and wonderful reads! Alexandria Jordan The Writer's Niche ***** I was so proud of our President, George W. Bush, Jr., who, in his Address the Nation speech, after this act of terrorism to our country, ended with the 23rd Psalm... If more people read the 23rd Psalm, or in fact any scripture in the Bible, things like this might not happen in our world.... I am so sad and distressed by this terrible act of violence (as is everyone) against not only New York, Washington, Pennsylvania...but you and me.....May the LORD bless the families of the injured and the victims of this horror!!!! Cyndy --------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner Everyone is still reeling over the events of September 11. David and I joined in prayer on our front porch with our candles burning last Friday night. It was such a beautiful experience we will do it again. I hope to find enough waterproof ribbon to make a large bow to tie around the pecan tree in front of my house. I will laminate pictures of my two sons in service and attach them to it. As your family members are called to serve, please send me their names and I will post them each week asking our readers to pray for them. Let me know if you want only their first name posted or first and last. I know some people want to protect their privacy. Isn't it wonderful that God always knows who they are? I know there are faithful people on this list who will pray. That is one thing we can do no matter what our age or circumstances. I ask that as you read these names you pray for them and their families. So far we have: Trey, Chris Speir and Tim Speir. I will add the names of your loved ones as you send them in. God Bless, Cheryl --------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------- Copyright 2001 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. ------------------------------------------------------------ All subscriptions sent to your email free of charge.