I’ve been gathering treasures for my grandkids from the Dollar Store shelves. As I hurry toward the checkout, a woman with a huge load of items manages to slip in just ahead of me. How annoying. Oh, well, I’m not in any terrific hurry on this hot, sticky day in the middle of our New Hampshire summer. I will just chill and soak in the AC.
The line behind me is growing. Suddenly I hear a soft male voice singing, “Cool, clear water”. It is barely audible. Can it be true? I steal a glance behind me and there he is, carefully singing the forgotten lyrics, his voice cloudy but right on key. I take the plunge. “I know that song!”
He grins. He is actually holding a bottle of chilled water. “Eddy Arnold recorded it in 1964!”
“Yes”, concurs the clerk. “I had the big LP 33.3 record. Remember?”
“I sure do,” he replies, as he warms to the shared memory. “My dad listened to Eddy Arnold all the time – he still does! He’s 93 now.”
In a flash I’m transported back into the 1950’s. The radio in my dad’s tan Plymouth is playing that song as we drive down to his little barn for a horseback ride. I hum along, trying to catch the words of the song. “Cool, clear water”. Daddy fetches the horse out of the barn, saddles him and lifts me miles up. I’m filled with a mix of terror and delight. No wonder they call this huge animal “Highboy”.
“You know that the Sons of the Pioneers recorded it even earlier, when I was a kid. I’ve got a few years on both of you.”
Everyone smiles as he continues to sing the lyrics. Yep, he remembers the whole song. His wife, a gentle woman with large glasses and short blond hair, graces him with the tenderest of smiles. “You sure know those lyrics, Honey!”
“Thank you for remembering,” he says as I gather my packages. It’s a good moment for all of us. Somehow, an ordinary afternoon has turned extraordinary.
Imago Dei.
