The gentle rustle of the old man's laughter has the same contagious happiness as the gold-tinted leaves of autumn, which sway just outside and peek in from behind sheer, ivory draperies. Wrinkled hands grasp the contrastingly smooth body of a young guitar; colored richly both by orange hues and the sweetness of the tune reverberating on it's strings. Though the notes possess a tremble of age, they sing together with the energy and skill of a young man still in love with living.
"I've played guitar my whole life. I must have been six years old..."
He turns and smiles, eyes watery as he laughs again at the thought. "...and did you know that I'm almost ninety?"
Autumn leaves embody a bitter-sweet joy. The turn of the season means fiery colors and crisp, cool air and a vibrant display of nature's best as summer fades.... and grows old..... and dies. Green leaves forget their gentle beginnings in a last, violent rush of color and celebration of the joy of being; then fall.
And winter sets in. And we breathe a choked sigh.
Yet the joy of it is.... Spring is on the other side. We may sleep for a little while... Our memories may quaver... Our bodies may grow old and weak. But our spirit stays young. The soul that God knit together will awake to a new life; an eternal summer; a joy that will never tremble.
And the bluegrass guitar of a Tennessee boy will forever sound true and sweet upon the ears of the Lord.
The delight of it fills the heart of God.
- for Randy
and his young, beautiful heart