January 7, 2025

Once a month we gather … 12+ old guys from our 1966 high school graduating class. Sitting in the same place we used to take our dates way back when. Freddie is a mountain of a man. All state wrestler and football player … did both sports in college, too.

Sang in the choir … he and his wife spent years as spiritual gospel singers. His body is broken … his spirit is not. He needs to go to the washroom. He nods to me and one other classmate: can you help? Freddie holds onto his walker … we hold onto him. It’s his version of the marathon. About a half hour later … he is safely in his car. He says “thank you” … our eyes say “thank-you” back. My classmate and I look at each other … we don’t have to say a word. I see “Jesus” in Freddie. His quiet strength … his humility to ask for help. As I leave … I look at my classmates around the table. We don’t move like we used to. We “are who we are.” Without having to say a word … Freddie becomes my “rabbi” —– teaching me never to take what gifts we have for granted. Christmas may be over … but around that old coffee house table — Jesus is born again. Love and peace to all — Don