Finding A Mystery
My Dear People,
I lifted Nelson up over the
gate (because it was locked) and down onto the top step. By the time I leapt over, he was already down
and off the steps, running, with arms spread wide, across the great green
expanse. Just minutes before, the field
had suddenly been flooded with deep blue jerseys. The players had made their way off the field
by now and, in their place, a happy melee of people of all ages wandered and
ran and jumped and kicked and threw.
After a wide-ranging,
rambling tour, it was finally time to go.
To my surprise, I was able to persuade Nelson of this without too much
trouble. Back over the locked gate and
up into the stands we went. After
ascending several rows, I had anticipated that we would then head down the nearest
ramp, toward one of the stadium exits; but several older boys high in the
stands got Nelson's attention and, before I knew it, we were headed their way,
and with some urgency, my persuasive powers seemingly having vanished.
The boys were combing the empty
rows avidly, picking up discarded or dropped posters, pom-poms, and other
treasures.
When I caught up with Nelson,
he politely, if somewhat breathlessly, explained to me, as he hurried on, "I
have to find a mystery."
(Oh, really?)
Up, up, and up we went. Nelson fell to his knees about every third
step or so, but that hardly slowed him down at all. Up, up, and up.
I could see him scanning the
cement for anything of value as he went, but he wasn't finding anything. The older boys had picked things over pretty
thoroughly. As we went higher, I began
to wonder how things would play out if we simply couldn't find anything worth
taking home. Would there be some
consolation? Could I come up with
something? But what would that be?
Then, within a few rows of
the top, we heard something.
"Music!" "It's
music!"
I followed him to the top and
lifted him up, to look out over the rail and down from the top of the
stadium. And, sure enough, down below,
we could hear and see a Salvation Army band.
"Papa, I found a mystery!"
"You sure did, Nelson."
Within moments, we made our
way down through the stands, out of the stadium, and stood right alongside the
band as they played their last number; and as Nelson stuffed a folded bill
through the cross-shaped slit in the top of their red tin pot. And the band members thanked him.
And we were on our way.
We had found a mystery.
When we got home, we shared
the news of our adventures with Gena, telling her about the mystery we
found.
Later, in a discreet moment,
Gena explained to me that the mystery reference probably alluded to Nelson's
new favorite show, starring "Mystery, Inc."
Yes, Scooby Doo!
When I had heard, "I have to
find a mystery," I must say Scooby Doo did not come to mind. I was thinking more of, say, Evelyn Underhill
or Thomas Keating. But, hey, if Scooby
Doo can open the door of mystery to my four year old, then, Scooby, come right
in!
In truth, every day is a
mystery.
Every moment, a mystery.
Waiting to be explored.
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Life awaits us there.
God awaits us there.
And our true selves await us
there.
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In the mystery.
Your brother in Christ,
Wallace+
