Kindred Spirits

KINDRED SPIRITS

Yesterday was an absolutely gorgeous Fall day. There was a cool, gentle breeze and every now and then you could see a gold or brown leaf floating lazily to the ground.
Everyone wanted to be outside—this is the perfect time of year to me! Fall has arrived and I love it.

A friend whose son plays baseball with Alex came over to our house to provide haircuts for our boys. She comes to the ranch every few weeks and provides haircuts for $5. It is such a blessing for us for two reasons. Trying to fit haircuts for 10 into an extremely busy schedule is difficult…. and expensive, too! (Ten times anything is a lot!) It’s great for her, too, because she is a single mom and can use the extra money. A couple of the other housemoms brought some of their boys over for haircuts as well. In all, I think she cut about 17 heads last night.

So needless to say, as seems to be the case for us wherever we are, we had a revolving door going on with kids coming in and out for haircuts, stopping to visit with friends, hanging around in the driveway shooting hoops, adults chatting, etc.

This day is, also, the end of what we call “Home Visit Weekend”. Many of the kids at the Ranch had gone “home” or to visit other relatives for the weekend. This happens a couple of times during the year. The children go to Grandma’s or Aunt’s or a family friend, etc. and just have a chance to be part of their family (if that is a possibility). For some, that is not an option and they stay here at the Ranch.

Anyway, the kids who had been gone for the weekend began coming home. This usually isn’t much of a big deal. Most actually seem ready to come back to their ranch home and the security and stability that they receive here. However, we now have the youngest boy we’ve had in our home (a small 9 year old, weighing in at 50 pounds) and things would prove to be a little different this time.

Mike and I were both in the house chatting with one of the other housemoms who was here with her boys for haircuts (actually the boys had already left, but she was just hanging out, visiting, enjoying the party). Mike looked at me and said, “Uh-oh, I think we may be needed outside”. He heard “Littleman”, as we sometimes call our 9 year old, wailing. We hastened out the back door and sure enough, there he was clinging to his daddy, not wanting to let him go. We are talking gigantic crocodile tears accompanied by red, puffy eyes—REAL tears, not the contrived ones we have seen from time to time used in an effort to gain attention or a break from discipline.

He turned to us and said that he didn’t want to have to leave his mommy (back at the hospital) or his daddy now. He was truly heartbroken. I reached out to him and he came and clung to me with all of his might, sobbing (Thank you, God, that we did not have to pry him off of his daddy). Boy, talk about taking your breath away. Of course, this was hard for his dad, too. Probably, the hardest thing a loving dad could ever have to do and he IS a very loving dad. He hugged him goodbye a couple of more times and then had to turn and leave.

Meanwhile, the revolving door is still revolving. Someone is sitting on the steps waiting his turn for a haircut, a few are playing basketball, etc. There is one boy standing nearby who seems to be really taking all of this in. He is a high school senior, tough-guy, awesome football player who has been at the Ranch for five years. Did I say tough-guy? I don’t mean one of those tough-guy, gentle giant types—I mean tough as in steel (cold, hard steel—that doesn’t bend or break)! He’s been hardened by a tough past and it’s actually a miracle of God that he is still at the Ranch. For some reason, he is one of those boys you don’t want to give up on, no matter how many times he has been in trouble, fights, etc. I’ve had a special place in my heart for him since the very first day that we came to visit Big Oak Ranch.

As things began to settle down a bit, Mike went back inside to keep the haircut rotation going and I continued standing with “Littleman” just hugging and talking. The tough guy walks over to us and puts his arms around both of us and looks down so gently and says, “You okay there, little man?” The three of us stood there hugging for a long couple of minutes as the breeze blew gently around us and a leaf or two fell to the ground. Not much was said, but I felt that those two kindred spirits bonded in a way that few of us can really understand.

Maybe, just maybe, a new season has begun in more than one way.

Lord, I pray for Littleman (and his Daddy)
and Tough Guy
and all of the broken hearts at Big Oak Ranch.