The children, Katie, and I went on a walk to Poppaw John's today.The children got an apple to share and I got a piece of leather to use as the bottoms of a pair of shoes I am making for Bunny (he always has interesting stuff in his basement/workshop). As I was inhaling the leather (I LOVE the smell of leather), Poppaw pulled out a large buckskin leather vest and asked if I wanted it. Most people would have turned it down or maybe even taken it just to be polite. But I am a different breed.
In all my years of scouring in Poppaw's basement, I have seen much magic unfold. Magic that may have been as simple as a little girl spending hours, sitting on a stool, rummaging though a box of beads to make Indian jewelry. Or her barefeet standing tiptoe on a cold concrete floor, peeking over the workbench to watch a carved creation come to life. Or the sound of a file humming over a cow horn. Or the taste of his homemade venison jerky, and the peppery goodness that lingered on her lips for hours afterward. Or maybe, just maybe, the discovery of a box, upon a shelf that she had not yet explored. And, as always, the smell of leather. Magic. Pure magic.
As we walked back toward Mama's house for lunch, with the leather vest now keeping me warm on the crisp October morning, I thanked God yet again. I thanked Him for Poppaw, For the man that taught me how to pray over dinner (more than just God is great and God is good), and who tried to teach me (and now Bunny) to cuss. Who taught me how to shoot a gun and skin a deer, and who played Indians with me.Who sends me all kinds of healthy homegrown canned goods, and who snuck Bunny her first bites of ice cream. Who I am so blessed to have in my life. He is just something you never outgrow.