Him

Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that it's been almost four years since I started walking on the trail across the street from my house with J.R. Almost four years ... has it really been that long? There are some evenings when it seems like only yesterday that I began those nightly walks with my sweet little wiener dog, and there are other evenings when the night I first stepped on the trail with J.R. feels like a hundred lifetimes ago. I had to force myself to go for a walk tonight, despite the fact that it's a gorgeous, warm evening. Ollie's incessant barking and running to the back door finally made me understand he wasn't going to stop until I took him for a walk, so I dragged myself off the couch and headed out to the garage with my wiener dog. He pranced like a reindeer in the snow as I tried to get his harness and leash on him, so excited to race across the street to the first wooden bridge. Much to Ollie's dismay, I still don't feel too great, so I moved much more slowly than I normally do when we hit the trail. Ollie ran ahead of me, turning around when he would reach the end of his leash with a "Are you coming or not?" look, and by the time we reached the first bench along the side of the trail, I knew I needed to sit and rest for a few minutes. It was as I sat on the bench with Ollie standing guard in my lap that I saw him coming down the trail ... I saw him, and Ollie saw his dog.

I first met him soon after J.R. and I began walking together ... well, I didn't really "meet" him, I suppose, because we didn't talk back then. The first time we actually talked was when he stopped one evening after J.R. passed away and asked me where my dog was. Prior to that emotional conversation, we did, however, always do the customary trail smile and nod of the head when we would pass each other, and I recall how I always thought he seemed like such a nice kid. I haven't seen him since last summer, and the first thing I noticed as I saw him and his golden retriever walking toward Ollie and me was how much he had grown up. He's not a kid anymore ... he's a tall young man with broad shoulders and a closely cropped beard. He was still a fair distance from the bench where Ollie and I sat when he saw us, and he immediately threw up his hand and waved, a gentle smile crossing his face.

When he got close enough for me to hear him, the ever-polite young man called out, "Long time, no see, Terrie ... why are you sitting on the bench? You and Ollie never sit on the bench ... you OK?"

I couldn't help but think again that he had matured so very much since I last saw him, and I was instantly angry with myself because I couldn't remember the kind young man's name. "I'm fine," I said, grateful that he didn't know that when I say I'm fine, I'm not really fine at all. "Just a long day, and I'm a bit tired tonight ... that's all. How are you, young man? I've missed seeing your smiling face."

I was surprised when he replied, "Mind if we join you for a little while, Terrie? I could stand to rest for a little while myself, and I know that Clyde would like to visit with Mr. Ollie here." I noticed how large his hand was as he reached out to pat Ollie on the head, and I noticed the gray around Clyde's eyes as he placed his big head on my lap and nuzzled my by now very excited and happy wiener dog.

"Of course you may join us," I said, trying with all my might to remember the young man's name. Hoping to avoid having to answer questions about myself, I immediately asked, "So how's life? Fill me in on what's going on in your world. I thought perhaps you had gone away to college since I haven't seen you since last summer."

"Not yet, Terrie ... I am graduating this year, though, and then I'll go to K-State in the fall," he said in his soft, low-pitched voice. "I want to be a teacher, an English teacher. My girlfriend says I have a way with kids, and my mom and dad are both teachers."

I listened as the tall, bearded young man chatted about sports and church and school and his girlfriend. I smiled when he said he wanted to marry her one day, and it warmed my heart as he talked about how much he would miss his family when he goes to college. He chatted for several minutes before he turned toward me, placed his arm on the back of the bench and said, "Are you sure you're OK, Terrie? You are very quiet tonight ... you really OK?"

"I'm just tired, my young friend ... I haven't felt too well for the last few days, and I'm tired tonight," I said, not sure who I was trying harder to convince, myself or the young man who gazed intently at me, concern etching his youthful face. "I'm just fine," I said, patting his hand ... I'm just fine."

"I want to tell you something, Terrie ... something I've wanted to tell you lots of times but I was never brave enough to do it. That first time we talked after J.R. died and you were so sad ... I've prayed for you every day since that day. I didn't have any friends back then, Terrie, and all the other kids teased me because I was kind of different from them. Even people on the trail ignored me ... they would say hi to Clyde, but they wouldn't even look at me or notice me at all. You were the first person outside of my family who noticed me, and I never forgot how nice you were to me. I've prayed for you every day since then, Terrie ... every day."

Tears welled up in my eyes as the young man spoke, and my voice shook as I remembered his name and I said simply, "Thank you ... Christian ... thank you." The young man's name is Christian, friends ... the kind and compassionate young man's name is Christian. Someone at work today asked me if I believe everything happens for a reason, and I could hear the sadness in my voice as I said, "I used to, but I'm not sure anymore." But tonight ... tonight ... tonight, I don't think it was any form of accident or coincidence at all that a young man named Christian happened along and stopped to talk to me ... a young man named Christian ... I was meant to see him tonight ... I was meant to hear him tonight ... I was meant to be blessed by him tonight. Him ... he is what his name should truly mean to anyone who claims to follow Christ ... a young man named Christian ... him.