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A Toast

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/annegirl/3896388150/" title="20090907-52 by Lucian Teo, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2664/3896388150_1cd193d420.jpg" class="img-center" alt="20090907-52" /></a>
It's odd that two separate parts of my past would converge in Monterey last week.
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There was a young boy once who would show up every now and then at the basketball court. He was chubby, and being a few years younger than the rest of the guys, considerably shorter. Not one of the regulars of this particular court, he didn't get to play very much and would just shoot the ball around on his own.
He kept doing that until one day he wasn't so short anymore (still a little chubby though), and we asked him to join us. The time and effort he had put in shooting the ball all that time paid off – he certainly had more game than many of us.
I never knew his name, until many years later when Cheryl brought him to church.
His name is Leon, and I remembered the relentless work ethic he brought to the courts so many years before.
I also noticed that he was now taller than me.
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20 years ago I was entrusted with taking care of a young girl over the course of a 4 day church camp. I was supposed to write letters of encouragement to her, pin it up on a huge notice board without revealing who I was. I don't remember what we wrote each other, but I do remember it being deep and heartfelt.
Over the years I have seen her transform from a little girl who wore frilly victorian-styled dresses to the amazing woman before us. Though the years and geographic proximity would render us more distant, I have always felt entrusted with her well-being, albeit through thought or prayer.
It was until she brought Leon to church when I realised that this imaginary role now belonged to him. I remember my initial reaction being one of relief. This boy would definitely try his darndest.

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