There could not have been a better Christmas Day.
This is the story of a magical day – a sterling day, so perfect that it could only have been a crafted, scripted waking dream. The gods created it, I’m sure, as a gift for our strained family and the troubled times we had been having.
On Christmas Day, 2004, our 19-year old son, Nelson, returned to San Marcos, Nicaragua, the village he’d left in 1986 as a very ill and fragile 21-month old boy. First, we visited the site of his former orphanage – now a small college. And then we started walking and exploring. Around the corner from the old orphanage was a soccer stadium, empty except for a couple of middle-aged men standing in the middle of the field. We watched for a while. Looked at the volcano in the distance and joked about how Nelson, the high school soccer player (All Conference honorable mention, I’ll have…
View original post 262 more words