Donnie, upset that his mother wouldn’t grant him yet another cookie, did the only thing a preschooler could do: he ran away from home. Well, actually, as he later confided to me, “I never ran…I only meandered.” Donnie’s high IQ demonstrated itself even as a boy. In fact, he meandered over to our house. It was in the midst of this real-life drama, as I sat on the kitchen floor playing with my toy cars, that I was first introduced to Donnie Poole.
Mrs. Poole, upon hearing Donnie’s threat to run away, had immediately helped him into his jacket and actually suggested it would be a good idea to run away to the Grubb’s, offering, “I’ve heard there’s already a gaggle of little boys living there.” As soon as Donnie stepped out onto Lake Road, Mrs. Poole called Mrs. Grubb and enlisted her to assist in a gutsy display of parenting. Like a concierge at an expensive hotel, Mom waited at the door, greeted him, helped him off with his jacket and ushered him into the kitchen. Bending over and peering under the buffet where I often played, she said, “Ronnie, this is Donnie. He’s run away from home and is gonna live with us now.”
Mrs. Poole and Mrs. Grubb had covertly decided it would be best if Donnie was allowed to linger at our house until “he decided” it was time to return home—which, as they expected, didn’t take long. Mom’s lunch offering of tomato soup and grilled cheese sounded disgusting to Donnie, who, without hesitation, politely asked Mom to take him home so he could eat lunch and then—with his index finger raised to emphasize his point said, “But as soon as lunch is over, I’m gonna run away again and come back here to play, is that OK?”
It was OK. In fact it proved OK for years to come, as together we grew into more than just neighbors—but best of friends.
I’m grateful Mrs. Poole had the wisdom to allow her son to wander. Donnie believed he was completely on his own, all the while never escaping the protective reach of his mother’s watchful eye.
I don’t recall ever officially running away from my mother as a youngster. But I vividly recall running away from my Heavenly Father. Only later did I discover that even on those occasions, when I thought I may be lost, I was never out of his watchful care. King David expressed exactly this same thought when he wrote in Psalm 139, verses 7-10:
“Is there any place I can go to avoid your Spirit? to be out of your sight? If I climb to the sky, you’re there! If I go underground, you’re there! If I flew on morning’s wings to the far western horizon, you’d find me in a minute—you’re already there waiting!”
As I thought about Donnie’s adventure, I recognized that when we wander off spiritually, the Father calls on Jesus to act as our Heavenly concierge, who, if we allow Him, patiently and confidently leads us back to the safety of home.
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.