Traveling the Rock Road

My beloved mother, or “Ma” as I called her was quite a strong woman, but then she had to considering her situation. Being a single mother with a severe hearing loss back in the 1950s, with few if any aid programs like we have today made it difficult finding a good job plus ensuring I would be taken well care of when she did work. So, on a couple of occasions I wound up living with other relatives until Ma could get on her feet and send for me.

During one of those times I found myself staying with family in Eastern Kentucky.  This was a family of six; dad, mom and four sons, nice but strict. The punishment “time out” was not part of the American way back then. If I didn’t do as I was supposed to, there was no talking, just a good crack on the back side to get my attention. But as I mentioned they were kind and treated me as their own; but still I missed Ma.

I would think about how the two us would sit on the couch laugh, play games, or just hug. Often, I asked when she was coming for me, but my questions would be ignored. Slowly I began to wonder if she would ever come back at all.

One day a large box showed up at the house and it was for me. Inside were toys, games and clothes; and it was all for me. I didn’t understand why I was receiving this and when I thanked the parents for the gifts, but they said it wasn’t from them but said no more. I then asked, “Did my mom get these for me?” Again, I received no answer, but both looked at me hard as if to say I hit the nail on the head. From that point on, each day I would climb inside of that box with one of my new toys and say to myself, “Mom’s coming for me, mom’s coming for me.”

Time passed until one day my Great Aunt Pearl came to visit and spent the better part of that night conversing with the parents. The next morning this family seemed to be sad. Each one gave me a hug. The father took Pearl and me into town where we boarded a bus to leave. “Pearl, where are we going?” I asked. With a soft smile she answered, “I’m taking you home.” I wasn’t sure what that meant; by that point in my life I had lived in Kentucky, West Virginia, Maryland and Ohio. Where was this place she called home and how would I know it when we got there? That answer came some 12 hours later when the bus came to a stop in front of drugstore on a busy street. I sure didn’t know this place and was confused if this was where Pearl spoke of as home. But then, the doors opened. There waiting to greet me with tears and smiles–Ma! It no longer mattered where this place was. The only thing important was Ma there waiting on me. I was home!

Later I learned that the gift box had been sent by her. It had been Christmas time and knowing the family I was with didn’t celebrate the holiday, she wanted me to have something to know she was still there and stilled loved me. Even though they never told me it was from her, I just knew. I also learned it had been their plan not to let me return to mom but to keep me as their own. Enter Aunt Pearl to rescue but that’s another story for another time. Perhaps they thought over time I would just forget about Ma and stop asking for her. But I believe they learned that I could not forget or be happy separated from the one I loved most.

Some 2,000 years ago a Gift was sent from a Father, letting his children know He had not forgotten them, that His love was still there for them. That Gift was in the form of a Child, a Savior.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Another writer puts it like this, “Jesus was God’s gift to the world, not just for Christmas, but for every single day…your whole life through…and even beyond for all eternity.”

These many years later I can’t recall the contents of that most special Christmas present, but I still think about that box, “The Love Box” as I refer to it, was sent to assure me that I wasn’t forgotten and I would someday be home with the one who loved me most.

Many years prior to that moment, a manager with a baby was the eternal representation of the same thing, the same love. That God the Father hadn’t forgotten us and waits until the jubilant moment when we are with Him, Home, Forever!

On behalf of my Lady and myself I like to thank all who have “Traveled the Rock Road” with us this year, and we look forward to more journeys in the coming year.

A very Merry and Blessed Christmas and New Year to you and your loved ones.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men!”