Summer nights

3 Jul
It’s a Sunday evening in July and the air is hot, sticky, humid.
A water balloon war is raging at the house across from ours where 3 of my children are in the proverbial trenches with 6 other kids and 2 really fun dads.
One son, as if Paul Revere, runs up the hill and yells out a warning of an impending invasion from just beyond the driveway.
I’m sitting to the side listening to the laughter and screaming and battle cries.
I watch the hiding, running, chasing, throwing.
A few mosquitoes swarm, and I wipe perspiration from my face.
And I smile with the prickling of tears in my eyes, tears of happiness, of gratitude, of bliss.
Today, in this minute, there is peace in my soul, a satisfaction from the Lord that I too frequently let pass me by in the hectic days of my life.
Tonight, they play with innocence, safe under the watchful eyes of Mom and Dad, happy to play and be carefree and have fun.
Tomorrow, they will grow older and taller and hopefully wiser and leave this street to make their mark on the world and start their own lives and families.
But hope builds in my heart that maybe, just maybe, those grown babes of mine will remember the water and the friends and the euphoria of the hot summer nights of their childhood.
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