Have you seen love, sweet love in action lately? Here’s the story of a recent time that love swirled around me and melted my heart. My family spent a day touring the Henry Ford Museum and most of the time all of us enjoyed it to the hilt, including the youngest of our family, Hunter.
In the morning, each young one chose a toy from the plastics machine. Before your eyes, the machine pours hot plastic and molds the toy, which then falls, still warm, out of the chute into eager little hands. Hunter chose a silver train. He carried it all around.
Hunter hung out with me outside the textile shop because spools of thread are not really very interesting when you’re 4 years old. See the train in his hand?
All went well until we rode a horse-drawn wagon through the streets. Several families journeyed around the park on this train. Suddenly we heard a cry. Hunter had dropped the train out the window. His dad promised to run back and look for it the second the train stopped, but Hunter couldn’t be consoled.
Blocks later, the ride came to the end of the line. Dad bolted away down the street, sprinting back to the place Hunter lost his train. Soon, he reappeared around the corner, waving the little train. By a miracle, he found it!
Hunter ran to his dad as fast as his little legs could go. He leaped into Dad’s arms and wouldn’t let go. He didn’t grab for the train. He just held tight to his daddy’s neck.
The rest of the day, we all made sure Hunter and his train stuck close. Here he’s playing with it while we sat in the courtroom where Abraham Lincoln tried cases.