A guest blog post from Sue Sugarbaker, our Courier Newsletter Editor.
I must have been about 4. We were going somewhere in the car and I was sitting in the front seat with my dad. Mom was in the back with my brother, likely because we’d been driving them nuts and were better off separated. It was summer, and the only way to get air was to either wind down the windows and blow my mother’s hair every which way, or to open that little triangular vent window at the front that tilted out. (You only know what I’m talking about if you’re as old as I am.)
So my vent window was open, and like any caring teddy bear owner, I was offering my bear fresh air and a great view by holding him out the vent window. Dad told me not to do that, but I really thought Teddy needed to breathe. So Teddy kept finding his way out the window. Eventually, I lost my grip, and Teddy went flying to the side of the road. My first thought was that he was gone forever. But then Dad pulled the car over to the shoulder and stopped. Then I figured I was in big trouble. I sat silently as Dad got out of the car, walked back and retrieved the bear and got back into the car. As he handed him back to me, all he said was “Keep him in your lap.”
I didn’t know the word grace back then, but I did know how amazing it is.