Mr. Lincoln

Sitting in my den...finishing my Sunday School lesson...I am surrounded by Mr. Abraham Lincoln, our 16th president.

At my feet is a bowling ball covered with Lincoln pennies. It was made by my sister Lisa. She is very crafty. She always has ideas floating around in her head. The ball...covered with the cement and the pennies...is very heavy.

The book...I haven't read...yet.

The gold dollar coin...I haven't spent...yet...and I may not.

The knife and the small plaque that goes with it...I haven't used yet...and probably won't. On one vacation, we went to the Smoky Mountain Knife Works in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. The worlds largest knife store. (Or so they say.) I'm not into knives, but the kid seeking souvenir side of me kicked in...so I bought this.

It sadly reminds me of another knife story...on another vacation...also in Tennessee. Rock City in Chattanooga. I think maybe I was 10 years old. They wisely lead you through the rocks...ending up in the gift store.

I wanted a knife so bad...pleading to my parents that I was ready. Ready to assume the responsibilities of knife ownership. They argued, but relented.

Between the gift shop and the parking lot...I had already cut my finger. Just wanted to see how sharp it was. My Dad noticed the blood all over my clothes. Hard to hide the red stuff.

My knife ownership lasted maybe 4 minutes. Dad took the knife away. He finally gave it back to me when I was 42. Figured I had matured enough.

Mr Lincoln. An American president in a tough time in our history. We've been to his house in Springfield, Illinois. We've been to his monument in Washington, D.C. Many thanks to him for a lazy Saturday blip.