Whenever my grass grows long, one of my students rides up on his scooter, grabs our lawn mower, and goes to work.
A few weeks ago, this kid arrived as he always does: Ready, if not eager, to mow our lawn. Before long, what was supposed to be a fast job turned into a full afternoon’s work. He mowed our lawn, weeded alongside my husband, and finally taught my husband how to mulch our yard.
While they worked outside, I lay inside, sprawled on our couch, recovering from a nauseating migraine. Despite my physical pain, I found myself grinning from ear to ear as I listened to their conversation through the open window. One topic gently gave way to another. In a short span of time they covered school, church, God, faith, and home – sometimes delving deeply into these topics and other times, merely skimming their surface.
As I eavesdropped on this conversation, I was struck by the profundity of the moment; By the sacredness apparent within it; And by the fact that it almost didn’t happen.