My Goodness, My Goodness, My Goodness

Pass It On is a new, bi-weekly peek inside the heart and mind of Francis Pass…

Holly and I were standing by the old apple tree.

It hadn’t been pruned or sprayed and the fruit hadn’t yet matured, so the apples were speckled.

That’s when I saw them. Off in the distance. A herd of deer sauntering south, led by a big ol’ buck.

Holly noticed them, too.

Her little hand gripped mine as she pointed with her other hand and said, “My goodness. My goodness. My goodness.”

Holly Francis. My namesake. My granddaughter. The girl I lovingly refer to as “Little Blondie.” She was five or six years old at the time.

I wasn’t surprised that she spotted those deer. Holly was and still is observant. She has a keen sense of her surroundings.

That’s probably because I used to always ask my grandkids, “Which way we goin’?”

See, in life it’s important to know which way you’re going. And if you know which way you went and where you turned to get there, you should have no problem getting back to where you came from.

So I taught my grandkids the NEWS. N-E-W-S. North, East, West, and South.

We’d drive out on route 13 and I’d say, “Now we’re gonna turn to the right, which direction will we be going?”

Holly caught on quick. In fact, she would catch on the quickest.

We’d be meandering through the countryside with all kinds of side streets and country roads. And I’d quiz Holly about her surroundings.

She’d say, “I know how to get out of here. I’ll tell you Popo.”

And she would. That little tyke would navigate us all the way back home.

“Little Blondie” is not so little anymore. She’s grown up and living in Chicago now, working for a bank using skills that she first learned down here in southern Illinois.

I’m so proud of her.

When I look at the phenomenal young woman she has become, I can’t help but say...

“My goodness. My goodness. My goodness.”

Be well. Stay well. Thanks for readin’...

Francis Pass

P.S. – What do you call a deer with no eyes? No I-deer.