tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895440453335552117.post4142822624442335913..comments2024-03-28T15:12:21.172-04:00Comments on calvin's story: grocery store bluesChristy Shakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00106761191160700997noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895440453335552117.post-39779940785523702292010-11-10T18:57:18.806-05:002010-11-10T18:57:18.806-05:00I drive past your house often, on my way to a near...I drive past your house often, on my way to a near-daily destination. Whenever I see your car gone with no nurse’s car out front, I wonder if you and Calvin are at the grocery store. I always hope that you both have a peaceful trip. It is hard to read about Calvin’s trip yesterday. Somebody could insert a joke here about how Calvin is doing our screaming for us as we each think about our own predicament in the modern world. [And it would have been no different in the ancient world…] But that’s not what’s happening: he is anguished at a level that is deeper than that. I grieve as I see the scene you have painted.<br /> The man who never acknowledges Calvin is just afraid. He would think, “What do I say? What do I do?” His fear is my fear, too. So here is a kind of prayer: Maybe someday, he will happen to see someone who’s not Calvin’s mom stroking his thick hair and naming his adorableness and something might change in him so that next time he sees you two, he would say, “Hi, Calvin.”macauley lordhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15496023249196844610noreply@blogger.com