Saray, I remember when your dad pastored for a brief time in Happy Union, Texas, or was it Cotton Center? He loved baseball and gave me a black outfielder's glove. Every time you and your family visited, he would toss the ball to me, and I caught every one he threw. It was my way of honoring him for the gift he had given me. I cherished that glove and kept it for many years after your family moved to Illinois. I used it until it became worn and tattered, and eventually it disappeared from my life.
