Repeatedly I jerk the chord until Sarah says, "I've never seen anyone do that before to an 'Easy Start" mower."
"Must be broke," I reply whipping sweat from my brow."It's only a year old, You sure you have gas in it?"
"Of course I have gas in it," I snap, leaning over to check.
"It must be the spark plug, I'm gonna ride my bike up to Chu's and get one."
"That'll take you all morning," my wife sighs strolling back inside.
Chu's is the closest thing to a Department Store on Tybee Island and if you know where to look you can most anything ... except they're forever moving things around so nothing's ever where it was last time you were there.
I love riding the bike around the island and slowly coast down Tybrissa to the Beach into the Parking Lot "down front" before taking a right by Spankey's to the back door of Chu's.
Strolling inside I literally stumble onto a man putting a kite together on the floor.
"Micheal Elliott!" he exclaims, jumping up and startling me to jump back. "It's like the Holy Ghost just showed up!"
Never being called that before I don't know what to say ... "Hey."
"Remember me?" he grins. "From Grace House?"
Grace House is a homeless shelter I helped start in the late 80s and, over time, I met a couple of thousand of people there.
"Oh yeah," I said not recalling him at all, but I'd received a message from someone from back then on Facebook who was coming to the island so ... this must be him.
He embraces me leaving the kite sprawled across the floor in front of the cash register.
His text indicated he and his wife would be on Tybee and would love to "catch up" as his life's completely different and it's thanks to me.
Words shoot from his mouth as though it were a machine gun and I catch he's in management at Publix, lives in South Carolina, his wife's German, they're going kite flying on the Beach, she want to meet me and they're coming to Bar Church to make it happen.
I'm exhausted when he finishes.
Smiling, he retrieves the kite, embraces me again and skips outside in the bright, windy day.
Strolling the aisle I see they've moved the Spark Plugs again so I wander around thinking.
There was a time I believed I was changing the world one person at a time, immersed in a revolution to end homelessness in a country as great as the United States only to learn our nation doesn't mind them at all.
Neither does the Church for that matter.
In the scheme of things we didn't make much of a difference.
But, like the little girl throwing starfish that'd washed on the shore back into the Sea, we made a difference to some.
Thank you Darin for reminding me. It was a joy meeting Wilma and it's joyfully humbling to witness someone who's come so far to fly higher than a kite, enjoying every second of this gift of life.
Finding the Spark Plug, I find myself smiling as I make my way home to Sarah and a Lawn Mower that may or may not crank.
