Sermons On The Second Readings
It was a calm and lazy summer evening, almost dark. As the sun set, casting a reddish-golden haze to the air and a glowing reflection upon the water, a grandfather and his small grandson sat on the edge of the fishing pier watching nature's glory, not really caring whether they caught any fish or not. There was an understanding silence between the two, bridging the gap of the years, binding them together with a bond beyond understanding. The wisdom of wrinkles and years, the questioning naiveté of innocence, there was an awareness of one another that required no words and it was good.
