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A Pitcher’s Mound

I guess you have to know my dad to appreciate this one. But for those of you who don’t know him, I’ll introduce you to one of his character traits. Dad loves his lawn. I have countless memories of my dad working in the lawn. Dad didn’t just work in the lawn, he “groomed” the lawn (remember those hand-held scissor tools used for trimming? I was never so thankful for the invention of the weed eater!).

Anyway, our yard was pristine, beautifully manicured…except for one spot in the back. There was a bare spot in the middle of our back yard where no grass would grow. One day, someone visiting with my dad, who could obviously see that he took great pride in his yard, asked him why there was a bare spot in the back yard. My dad’s response to him was simply, “Don’t you know a pitcher’s mound when you see one?”

You see, as much as my dad loved his lawn, he loved his son more. Dad wasn’t raising grass, he was raising a boy. And I for one, am thankful for his perspective.

What about you? How’s your perspective? Give it some thought.

–by Steve Higginbotham

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