Counting to One Hundred

Every day I spend some time teaching Audrey in various ways. I'm teaching her the alphabet, the States, Bible verses, and her numbers. Yes, I know, she's only one, so I'm not sure she's really getting any of it. But I know she will someday. Right now it's mostly a way for me to spend time with her and play a little make-believe (I'm the teacher, she's the unruly student!). As I sing through numbers one through ten with her, I'm reminded of the very first time I was able to count to one hundred. It was such an exciting moment for me, and not as hard as I had previously thought it would be. So, just to extend my appreciation to the person who taught me how, I thought I'd write him a thank you note:

Dear Random Man on Chair Lift,

I've spend a lot of time thinking about you recently, like, why were you and I sharing a chair lift together? Why did my parents let me ride up with a stranger? Why were we sharing a four-person ski lift when there were just two of us? What made us start counting to a hundred in the first place? Were you bored out of your mind, or did you think it was funny?

I guess I'll never get answers to those questions, but I do know I have you to thank for counting to one hundred. Who knows, I may never have been able to do it without you! Your careful guidance through the tens, teens, twenties, and so on, made a distinct impression on my young life. I'm so glad you were there to share my joy at such a great accomplishment.

So thank you again, random guy on a chair lift. I hope you remember it as fondly as I do. And thank you, as well, for not being a pervert.



He probably will never see that thank you note, but I feel better just sending it out into cyberspace.

So now, I will continue teaching Audrey and passing on that fount of knowledge passed on to me from that random guy. Hopefully her memories of the great one hundred will be just as sweet.