I read this story today at our Northern Virginia Ethical Society winter festival.
Our family moved from suburban South Orange to rural Scotch Plains, New Jersey. Shortly after the move, Mom called Dad at his workplace with an urgent message.
"There is a horse in our back yard," she excitedly told him. "What should I do?"
"What color is it?" he asked.
"What color!" she yelled before slamming down the phone.
Dad quickly called back.
He listened while she berated him for making fun of her by asking such a ridiculous question.
"Can I explain? he asked.
"Okay, but this better be good," she said emphatically.
"We moved to a small, counry town where everybody is acquainted with each other," he began. "I intended to call the mayor. He knows the people and their animals. By describing the horse, the mayor will know who to call."
There was a long silence before Mom quietly said, "It is dark brown with white marks on its front two legs."
"I'll make that call now," Dad said.
I often think of my father's generous spirit that nurtured a marriage with great affection for over fifty years.
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