award winners

“I mowed the yard diagonally this week,” my husband was taking a lemonade break.
“Uh-huh, very interesting.”
“I feel pretty good about that.”
“I’m sure you do.”
While I was away as camp counselor, he cleaned house, picked blueberries, mowed the yard and made his first pie crusts for fresh blueberry pie.
“After mixed the flour, water and shortening, it didn’t look right so I worked it until it did.” He had broken every rule and still produced a flaky, delicious pie shell.
“You did a good job, dear.”
His pie crusts pleased him. His mowing satisfied him and the pile of blueberries thrilled him. As we relaxed with the family Sunday afternoon, for the umpteenth time, he asked, “Weren’t those pies good?”
“Yes, dear, the pies deserve a certificate of recognition.”
My son grinned, “No, a plaque. They are good.” He reflected a moment. “Could you imagine what it would be like if we handed out plagues for everything? We could redo a floor with little wooden plaques: Kids: hung their clothes neatly: May 5, 1989. Mom: great roast July 27, 1990. Dad: four fantastic pie crusts June 23, 1997.
About then, it was time to dress for evening services. “I am going to change for church,” my husband announced.
“And there’s another one! Dad changed his clothes for church.”
The next several weeks we handed out verbal certificates ad plaques for daily deeds of accomplishment: dishes, grocery buying, making supper, changing the sprinkler in the lawn.
Last week, after buying bread, I turned the key in the car’s ignition and heard the dismal click of a dead battery. The sun was hot, the car was hotter and the concrete sidewalk blistering.
I went back to the bread store. Borrowed their phone and called my husband. It was time for his lunch break.
“The car won’t start and your daughter needs it to drive to work this afternoon.”
He came, parked his car alongside mine, found the battery cables and recharged the battery. He slammed the hood down, “Better have the battery checked before you go home.”
I looked at him. When I take the car in for repairs some guy asks a hundred questions that I have no idea how to answer. Besides the car was running and one daughter needed it to get to work.
“You take it,” I said. “I’ll swap cars with you.”
I grabbed the bread and left him on the hot parking lot with a funky car and the task of having it checked out.I went home to an air conditioned house. Guilt or thankfulness caused me to realize this deed deserved recognition.
With the computer’s help, I made a certificate of recognition: to a most noble and honorable husband who rescued his wife on a hit day, charged the battery and too it to be checked out. From a humble and thankful wife.
He never said a word about what he had done. but he did leave his certificate tacked to the bathroom mirror for a very long time.

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