It’s more the end of the story, if you wanna know the truth, something that happened to add a jolly exclamation mark to the end of our already joy-filled weekend.
We’d come for Dabo’s Women’s Clinic, you see–the collection of 10 college friends gathered at Sarah’s lake house and another handful across town. (There is a great football lesson there, and I shall get to it by and by. I hope it’s one you’ll want to hear.) Anyway, our day of football over, we loaded a couple of snack trays, filled a cooler or two with drinks and made our way down to the water’s edge. There we sat for an hour or more, talking and laughing, laughing and talking until someone looked up to see a white duck strolling right up Sarah’s dock toward us.
That duck nosed around the cooler a while, then took herself a big fine seat right on our edge. And she sat there a good long while, leaning in, listening, laughing along with the thousand funny things we remembered from our college years together.
Then dusk started to settle. Our chatter turned toward dinner and a possible return to the house, and that sweet white duck got up, turned on her webbed heels and headed back toward the dock.
We were sad to see her go. But we were mighty pleased she had come!
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