This morning I watched my grandson play baseball. He was full of dreams. I watched him as he waited for the game the start. He was pretending to catch and throw the ball, the perfect play was in his head and he was acting out each step of his role. I listened to him and the other boys while they waited for their turn at bat, “I’m gonna’ hit a grand slam home run!” There is nothing finer than the baseball dreams of an 11-year-old boy. The pain of striking out was almost too much to bear; the broken dreams were a hard reality. Hope and dreams returned quickly and he once again stepped to the bat, confident and full of dreams.
1 comment:
He's perhaps a bit like his mother. Imagination is a bit better than reality.
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