18 January 2010
A goal of our holiday trip to Germany was to see el niño back on skis. He spent some time on them in Chile but he was still a tad too young and his attention span a bit short for the experience to sink in. I am happy to announce that Henry is now a member of the fold, the small but highly enlightened faithful who believe that to move down a snow covered mountain with two boards attached to the feet is the highest form of divine intervention, inspiration, and expression. And as far as I could tell the baptism was far less painful than most others.
We signed him up for three days of ski lessons because Henry the Willful is nothing if not, well, willful, and in our experience a firm but compassionate third party is the best way for him to learn. He is a quick, focused, and capable learner when Ma and Pa aren't around to complicate things with family roles and emotions. We were able to sneak a few peeks to watch the conversion process unfold.
Hands on knees, submit to the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever. Amen.
In his quest he found others in search of the truth and light. And though they were divided by language and location they shared a similar creed and, lo, they abandoned all secular differences and together bound they triumphed.
By lunchtime on the third day, though, the game was up. The boy decided to quit the group and strike out on his own. Tired of the class and the Tower of Babel that separated them, he wanted only to ski with Ma and Pa. So we did. And he never looked back.
From here on, I suppose, it will be a matter of faith, dedication, and discipline. The question, then, will be whose ski tracks will he follow into the light eternal? The graceful but cautious Mama?
Or the not-so-graceful, not-so-cautious, but potentially more exalted Daddy?
The future is in his hands.