A fourteen year old boy runs up to me, saying, "Pastor Jeff, Pastor Jeff, guess what?

"What", I respond.

"My mom got her tax check" the boy replied.

"What did you do?", I asked.

"You won't believe this, you just won't believe this", the boy said, " I had the best night of my life last night".

"What did you do" I replied impatiently.

I was just beginning to write about Josh when he rang my doorbell. He needed to borrow an extension cord to work on his car. Josh and I talk a lot. He has shared his life with me, much of it dark and depressing - - - abuse, drugs, jail, and only he and God know what else.

I was driving through a nearby town on the way to a meeting, had some time to spare and stopped at an old downtown, run down, thrift store. It almost looked closed as it was dark inside. I guess they were trying to save electricity. I enjoy going to old downtown stores to view turn-of-the-century architectural elements.

Scott

The large shiny cross necklace hung around his neck. It seemed so big for such a little guy. He was being held by his father who, by the way, had on the same kind of necklace. Scott is a single dad raising a nearly two-year-old boy. They both look alike, dark crew cut hair, same eyes, nose, and sheepish grin. Scott also has a daughter. His daughter lives with his wife and his son lives with him. Scott’s tattooed arms, goatee, the bling of his jewelry, and his dark clothing make it obvious that he is not a “Ward Cleaver” kind of Dad. Those who don’t know him might never guess it, but he did more than father a child. He is a dad, one of the best I have seen. He pulls his son in a red wagon all over the neighborhood. Scott is a quiet man, sticking near his apartment, full of wisdom, and seems to be making good decisions. He holds his son with pride; he loves him unconditionally. He strives to do what is right. He protects him from the harsh realities of life that sometimes surface in the neighborhood. He spends all of his spare time with his son. He is the kind of dad that every child longs for, a dad who is building a child who will grow into a man who will respect others and be a man of integrity.

It is the time of the month that makes me sad. For most of those on the porches it is a relief. It is the first day of the month. The money has arrived. For families who have had little to nothing for the past ten days, the first could not come soon enough. Some young men in the neighborhood refer to this day as “Mother’s Day” (the day that mothers get paid).

It happens each year. First there is a knock on the door and then the boxes of Christmas presents are delivered. It is a God-send. Sometime around Thanksgiving the children come home from school and start to tell all who will listen what they want for Christmas. Just like every other child, they want what they see on TV.