MIRACLE

My miracle came as a 5'2" beautiful blonde, natural curly hair. The first time I saw her, she had three little guys with her age 4, 5, and 6. I mentioned to her she must have started awfully early to have three youngsters at 16. We both laughed. She told me she was visiting her sister for the summer. The kids were her sister's not hers. We just fit each other. I saw her every day. We laughed, danced, swam at Angle Lake. I couldn't get enough of her. The day she left to return to Cheyenne, Wyoming was a sad day for me.

We wrote each other for a year. When the next summer arrived I told her, you don't get to go back—EVER!

We were married—Francie 17, Me 19. Many thought we were too young. That marriage lasted 66 years. Every one of those years had its ups and downs, but we were a team. We took each hit by supporting each other: her dad's death in a car wreck, the birth of our daughter Linda Gail, making a living with a 6^th grade education, a string of horrible jobs. But we never missed a meal.

Going to college. When we landed at school, we had a lone $5 bill. We made a commitment: We were leaving with a degree. Four years later, we did leave with degree in hand. We lived in Idaho, Wyoming, Arizona, California, back to Washington. We traveled the world, the USA, Kentucky Derby, Nashville for Xmas, Mardi Gras New Orleans, Branson MO many times, Las Vegas. We
got it done. One miracle after another.

The next miracle when I once again take her hand—forever and ever.

By Roger Wilson