A minor miracle happened a few days ago on a secluded Kansas farm. It occurred while a nation was transfixed by what was happening in the U.S. Capitol building.
The small farmhouse sits upon a tranquil prairie, roughly 1,190 miles away from Washington D.C. I am told the sunset was one for the books that night. The sky was an arresting seascape of reds, violets, and golds.
Some are surprised to learn that Kansan sunsets are among the most unique in the world. This is because of dust. Dust particles from the entire earth travel to the central plains, riding on global wind currents.
Sometimes dust comes from as far away as the Sahara, drifting 5,000 miles to hover above the Flint Hills. At dusk, the sun shines through these particles and it sets off an explosion of color throughout a pink and yellow sky.
It was during one such vivid sunset that an SUV came barreling up the elderly cowboy’s driveway.
The wiry cattleman stood outside his barn, waiting, watching the car’s dust cloud
get bigger. He pulled his jacket snug over his slender frame. It was 29 degrees outside.
From the SUV ermerged his adult daughter and his two grandkids (ages 8 and 9).
“Grandpa!” they cried. “Are we too late?”
He shook his head. “Nope, just in time.”
Most kids would have hugged their granddaddy at this point, but this particular cowboy is a distant man. He’s not a hugger. Call it evidence of his abusive childhood. Call it a byproduct of serving in a Vietnam War. Call it being a windburned cowpoke.
His adult daughter explains: “My father’s a great guy, but he’s never hugged me. Not in my whole life. We’ve never said ‘I love you’ either. Not even at Mom’s funeral.”
The funeral was back in March. It’s been hard on everyone.
The quiet man led the family into the barn to see something…