Harrison by the Rapids

Each of my children has given me one grandson. Phyl's Nathan; Angie's Adam; Tracy's Kyle; Joey's Harrison. I love them all with a passion.

There's just something about a "barefoot boy with cheek of tan." I loved that poem so much that I made it a permanent part of my American Literature course for external studies students at Bethany Divinity College. I think this photo gives it new meaning. My brother, Mike, took it this weekend after Harrison had just about spent himself romping the banks, skipping rocks, and just having his own private thoughts about the old Tallahatchie River that meanders through New Albany, Mississippi. A delightful spot on the southern map, the place where his great-grandparents lived for many years and where they died.

Blessings on thee, little man,

Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!

With thy upturned pantaloons,

And thy merry whistled tunes;

With thy red lip, redder still

Kissed by strawberries on the hill;

With the sunshine on thy face,

Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace;

From my heart I give thee joy—

                           John Greenleaf Whitaker