“Little John, Big John”

I am covetous of holidays. They are special. They are “family days” and the outside world doesn’t often intrude. We placed the turkey in the center of the table. “Tom” was gorgeous and “ooh’s” and “aah’s’ were upon everyone’s lips. We were about to thank God for another Thanksgiving together when the door bell rang. Who in the world could that be? I jumped up from the table and proudly exclaimed that I’d quickly get rid of whoever it was!

As I opened the door, a very tall good-looking young man gazed down on me and with a smile asked, “Judy, do you remember me?” I didn’t.

“It’s me, Little John.” He explained that he was home for the holidays and just couldn’t pass by without stopping to say hello. I yelled for Verne to come to the door. We were so excited to see one of our foster children from the early eighties! “Little John” was now over six feet tall and lived in Los Angeles. He was doing well and wanted to express thanks on Thanksgiving Day for what we did for him. Maybe we fed him well, for he was no longer Little John!

“For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,” Matt. 12: 34

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