Grandpa seemed to be part of the project, but it was John who held so tightly to his special "bunch".
The walk around the lake was about a mile, and one would think the "bunch" might be tossed a side as the walk became long. Not so. We arrived back at the dock and he still proudly carried his treasure.
Now it became time to go. Time to get in the car and head for home. Not convenient to carry a large bunch of grass into the car. What to do? I suggested to John that we could put the grass in a special place in the bushes where it would be safe and no one would bother it. I could see him thinking carefully about this. He hesitated and then hurried with his grass, not to the bushes, but quickly climbed up into the watch tower at the lake, and placed his treasure in the safest place he could think of. Tears came to my eyes. I assured him it would be safe there.
The next day, as the staff gathered to start another busy day, I went up into the tower. There, it was as he had placed it, safe and sound.
I picked it up. I held it proudly and reverently in my hands. Something so special and dear to my grandson. Something he had so carefully and thoughtfully placed. I love you John. I love the way you see things a bit deeper and more gently than I do in my busy world. I placed your "treasure" in an even safer place. A place where it would not be walked on or torn apart by others, but where it would be loved and be a haven for small critters at the Lake.