We went to our Ava, our granddaughter’s, soccer game the other night
and once again I was shown
how everybody…every family…has a story of their own.
We saw some familiar faces (as at Ava’s soccer games we always do),
people who’s stories we’re familiar with…because we’re in a chapter or two.
Of course when it came to the other team and their families
I did not recognize a face…
In fact this night might be the only night our stories interlace.
And though we had our eyes on Ava while the game was on…
in those moments in between…
we had a chance to visit with some parents from the other team.
We talked to a couple all bundled up because the night was Florida cold
and another couple with a baby who just turned one month old.
Since Ava is the goalie we tend to do our cheering as we stroll
back-and-forth along the sideline closest to her goal.
As we were rooting for Ava to block every shot…
her goal posts to control….
next to us was a father from the other team
cheering his daughter, Ryan’s, shots would find their way into the goal.
I complimented his daughter Ryan…he complimented Ava…
and we reached this harmonious accord….
because Ava blocked a lot of shots…and his daughter Ryan scored.
It was a pleasant evening…as for one night our lives intertwined…
being a part of their story…as they were part of mine.
And I was once again reminded…as Ava’s soccer game began…
how we should try to walk into each other’s stories…
as gently and lovingly as we can.