Way back in the 20th century, in a little Kansas town, of barely 1500 people, T-bud enjoyed summertime. In fact, he didn’t just enjoy it, he could barely wait for it every year. Yeah, you’d have a hard time finding anyone in the whole world who loved summertime more than T-bud.
Every year he begged his mom, for weeks, to let him go barefoot.
Matter of fact he always asked her so much that, in her aggravated mom voice, she’d say, “Theophilus Arthur Buddington! If you ask me one more time, I won’t let you go barefoot at all this summer!”
And that’s when he knew he had to just hang tight and wait.
Because he loved to feel the dusty Kansas backroads and soft, grassy fields and rolling hills on the bottoms of his feet. Now, the summer he was ten, T-bud was on one of those walks, under a mighty hot summer sun. So, he found a shade tree and walked over to find a place to sit for a while. And he was just about to do that when he spotted a rusted, old tin can sittin’ on a stump right by the creek.
He still had plenty of time to get back home before mom would get worried. So, he looked around and picked up a pocketful of rocks. Because he felt the urge to test his aim by throwing rocks at the can. Once he was satisfied he had enough good rocks, he lined up for target practice.
He got the feel of the first rock in his palm, bounced it around a couple of times to be sure, and fired off his first throw. Rats! The rock missed the can by a mile and splashed into the water. So, he threw a second rock and it bounced off the trunk of a willow tree nearby. Alright, that was it. Now, it was time to get serious. So, T-bud squinted his eyes and grabbed the smoothest, best-shaped rock.
And he threw a beautiful straight fast pitch.
And the rock caught just enough of the bottom right side of the can to make a little “tink” noise. Not the result he hoped for. But it encouraged him to keep trying.
For days, and even weeks, T-bud returned to that same stump and can and threw hundreds, maybe even thousands of rocks. So many he just plain lost count. But he didn’t just throw for the sake of throwing. He studied his own moves. And the way different shaped rocks would fly through the air. Every hit AND every miss gave him more information to help him adjust his stance and arm and wrist.
He finally got so good that he almost never missed. Yeah, you’d have to wait a long time if you watched him just to see when he’d miss. And he got that good at longer distances, too. It was unbelievable. Other kids would come by sometimes and, to them, T-bud’s rock throwing skills almost looked like a magic trick.
But summer came to an end. Then Autumn passed on by. And that ended up being the last time T-bud would throw so many rocks. Every year after that took him further away. Other summers came and went, and other interests popped up. And one of those interests changed his life forever. T-bud discovered the charm and allure of…wait for it…girls.
Then, it was all over.
Carefree summer days, strolling along with nothin’ to do but think and throw, it was all gone to the land of fond memories and distant dreams. Just like it happens, every year, for everybody.
But one day, many years later after T-bud turned into Theophilus (most called him Theo) full-time, he found his way back to that little Kansas town. And he climbed across a gate and strolled out into the green Kansas field that led to that creek and willow tree. The tree was gone. But the old stump was still there.
Theo looked around for a can or something to set up on the stump. No cans to be found. But he DID find an old piece of barn wood. So, that would have to do. Then, he found three good rocks. Yep, they were just about as good as he could hope for, and he bounced them around in his palm to get a feel.
He walked back about 50 feet. Then, he got into what he hoped was his best rock-throwing stance. And he cradled the first rock in his fingers, wound up his pitch, and threw a fast one. A miss! But he only missed by about two feet.
OK, now he got even more ready. Good stance. Loose shoulder. Good grip. Let ‘er fly. And the rock bounced off the old stump only about two inches in front of the can. Well, only one rock to go.
Theo saw little T-bud, in his mind’s eye. The kid who wouldn’t stop till he could hit the target every time. The image of himself as a boy on a mission to be the best rock thrower ever inspired Theo to put his whole heart and soul into his third and last throw.
“Here…you…go…”
The rock left Theo’s hand with just the right feel. And he felt that old, familiar feeling of a successful throw. It seemed as though the rock sailed through the air in slow motion. And it was almost as if he was able to watch himself and the rock from somewhere else. Wow, what a glorious moment in his life.
And the rock…
Uh-oh. I seemed to have misplaced what happened next. Oh man! That’s frustrating. Right when you’re about to find out the end to the story, the writer misplaces it.
Tell you what.
How ’bout you tell me what you think the ending was or should be? Yeah, send me your version of the ending. And if it’s the one that fits best, I’ll add it to the story and tell everybody you’re the one who sent it.
Sound good? Great. I’ll be watching for it. In the meantime…
Take a second and join the growing body of believers who’ve already signed up for the FunderFlash Journal. And, to show my sincere appreciation for your time and attention, I’ll send you download links to 2 of my books and 2 songs, right away, that grownups AND kids can enjoy. Then, I’ll do my best to encourage you to sing a new song with the power of God’s love.
Stay tuned,
