I wonder if he even knew what he was doing when he gave Bob that bow.
We weren't there all that long but we had some good friends in Rocky Mount. Tom and Susan are good people. The first time I met them, they were giving. Giving their time, advice and stuff. They gave us floats at the beach, told us the best places to go and treated us to an evening of fishing.
Tom and Susan are simply kind and they are the kind of people I aspire to be when I grow up and quit being so selfish. They think of other people.
They give no consideration to what they might get out of the deal.
Susan supported my little business at the farmers' market. Tom helped Bob fix our cars. They had us over and fed our kids. There are other things, too, and they were in it together. Both of them making the world a better place.
I wonder if Tom even realized what would come of giving Bob that bow.
As we approached our 1,280 mile relocation, Bob, always an outdoors kind of guy discovered that archery is big here in Oklahoma.
Tom had two bows. The day before we left, he and Susan brought one over and had Bob try it out. Said he couldn't use two, or maybe that was Susan that said that. Anyway, Bob made more room on the truck and we left North Carolina with a great bow packed carefully in our caravan.
Ten is moody these days. He doesn't seem to want to do anything except play Mindlesscraft.*
*Names of PC games have been changed to give me a sarcastic outlet while protecting me from some law I have yet to learn about.
With all of this talk of bows and a visit to the archery shop, Ten expressed an interest in a recurve bow. Said he might want to check out the local youth club that trains in Olympic style archery.
Bob got that boy a bow, a nice one. You see, we only had to buy one.
They go shoot most Tuesday evenings and on Saturday mornings. They shoot for hours, that dad and his boy. Ten is pleased with how his muscles are growing across those boy shoulders of his. He is pleased with how it seems to come naturally.
Bob and the boy talk about fletchings and anchor points and "splitting your arrows in twain" and we all laugh.
Sometimes Eight goes with them on Saturday mornings and he shoots too. My daughter and I don't see them for hours and we do our own things. At the playground Eight crosses the monkey bars and rings incessantly so his shoulders will get strong enough to pull back a bigger bow.
Those boys have taken a big leap off the couch toward being little men and they talk with their daddy and they learn to control themselves and they learn how an arrow flies through the air and they learn how to be considerate of others so that you don't shoot them. Really.
They learn how to talk to each other.
One day Ten shot with Grandad and he began to learn to listen because this isn't Mindlesscraft but there are points at the end of those arrows.
You are going to leave a legacy. Your arrow is going to fly, so take aim and aim well and aim high.
Tom, thank you for giving Bob that bow, and for being his friend.
Susan, thank you for being kind when I was a stranger.
This is another post in the Bloom Where You're Planted series. If you only read a few others, pick these...
Bloom Where You're Planted
Love Does, our story
Do the Next Thing
Pecans Come from Pecan Trees, or the nut really doesn't fall far from the tree