A DAY WITH MY SON
Sunday was a typical Alaskan day, much the
sane as any othxr, §ave for one thing, I ^ent it
with my son. To spend a day in thx relm of the
world that revolves for an eight year old is as
interesting an experience as one can find.
Lost of us dads and mothers, arc either too
bysy or too tired to* spend much time with -our
children. Especially a full day just for the purp
ose cf being with them ana sharing their compani
onship. Yet there are; fow-among us who would not
benefit from the experience.
Somewhere th^rcs a piece of poetry that goes
something like this:s
"If'you have-a little boy,
You can call your Very own,
‘Then you have enough and more
To make a happy home.”
Some of us are fortunate enough to' have this
rcauisito for "fuller living", yet to few the
tincs wc take advantage of it.
"The boy rho lives at our house" exists in a
world of his how, much the sane as other boys of
this age group, and Sunday we spent a day in that
world.
Lre spent the day hiking and just looking at
the world1. *7e did a little parcticc shooting vrith
the twenty-two also buo we found that just enjoy
ing the world around us was best.
Tie walked to the woods and took a trail ‘which
I thought was the trail to the o^Ld schooner up the
Bay. "Its the wrong trail Daddy", he told }•/:, but
I,' in ny set way figured that though it probably
wasn’t exactly th^ right trail it- would get yb£
there eventually. Like a good sport he followed
along and together4 we enjoyed the creations of
nature around us, the beauty of the sunlight thro
ugh the trees, the Erin green of vthe ferns aiid
snail plants, the hugness of the - leaves of the
devil club plant and we even discussed the purpose
of the stickers on then. ThG beauty and the near
ness to God that one feels when one is in God*s
wilderness was shared by us and we relaxed and
rcVclod in the elosness of our companionship.
After walking a short time we found that it
actually was the wrong trail and we had to retrace
our stdns and take the trail he first suggested on
the beach and soon the old schooner hove, into,
sight. " ‘ .
’Thile waiting far'the tide to recced in order
that we might board the ship and investigate. her
we did some practice shooting with .the. gun at sone
old bottles, iit the same time wc talked of ; not
shooting at song birds and why we should be eare
-J -- -- e-i T 1 ->mr|-Vi7n<7 rtf. vrr
the horror of shooting to
kill your fellow man as
one must do in war. T7hile
talking thus the thought
came to mind that if we,
as parents, throughout
the world took time to
explain, to-^our children
the futility of war and
the advantages of being
considerate of ourselves
and our neighbors then, ;
and perhaps only then
would our /world be free.
Later we mounted the
side of the old schooner
like the pirates of old
hand over hand ' up the
sides on swinging ropes.
Each an individual but
each working with the
other and helping. Once
aboard we looked ov^r the
ship hoping and yet not
expecting to find perhaps
a'Token of a sort that
would t'-ll of the bygone
days of th<_ four masted
schooner. was enjoy
able looking and building
stories for each oth^r
about the exciting days
'that were past.
But the day to soon
drew to a close and we
/started home, back to the
disturbing, distracting,
everyday world. But the
day was not yet over nor
in my mind vrill it ev^r
: be over, for the compan
ionship of the day was
even mor^ fully cemented
by nis homov.'ard bound
remark "lets do this
again sometime".
But bedtime comes
and so does tomorrow and
vith tomorrow I imagine
that again I shall be too
busy or too tired to re
turn the companionship
that today has been given
I hope not, — today has
been to unforgetable.