Tim Ellsworth

September 16, 2005

Dear Daniel,

Sometimes it’s the small things in life — like rocks — that bring us the most joy.

I’m in Slidell, La., tonight, covering some stories about Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. The Gulf region down here is in shambles. The fierce hurricane winds blew down countless trees, many of them smashing houses and cars as they fell. Traffic has been a nightmare. Thousands of people are without homes. And I have yet to see the worst of Katrina’s destruction.

All evening I’ve been listening to stories about how the hurricane has affected people, and sometimes it gets depressing. The magnitude of the damage is colossal, and I sympathize for so many people who have lost everything they owned. Some of them have even lost loved ones. It truly is a tragedy that will affect this country for years.

As I was getting ready to go to sleep, I reached into the pockets of my shorts to pull out my keys – but also felt something else. Out of my pocket I pulled a rock. Just a rock, some might think. There are millions of them in the world. No big deal.

But this rock is a special rock, because a special boy gave it to me. The other night when we were out walking the dogs, you stopped as you often do to explore the grass, the flowers, the trash, the bugs, the leaves, the dirt and whatever else you might find on the ground. You picked up a rock and headed straight for me – “Here daddy. Here daddy,” you said.

This rock was special enough for you to think I might like it, so you cheerfully offered it to me. I took the small stone and placed it in my pocket. At the time I thought about discarding it when you weren’t paying attention, but then I decided to keep it. When we got home I forgot all about it.

Until tonight, that is. I pulled the rock out of my pocket, looked at it and smiled, because it made me think of you. I may be a long way from you tonight, but this rock made it feel like you were right here.

It brought to mind all the fun we have on our nightly walks, and how much you look forward to them. It reminded me of your wagon rides down to the local elementary school, where we let the dogs off their leashes for them to run freely. You do your best to keep up, but often you lag behind. After all, there are so many interesting things – like rocks – for you to stop and see.

Until a few days ago, the rock that now sits beside me was merely that – a rock. Now it’s something much more valuable, and something I’ll treasure for a long time.

Love always,

Dad