After several emails, the majority wanted to hear about the Milk Man! Thanks for those of you who read this blog and responded.
I am writing this blog on a Saturday morning here at the house. On Saturdays, I sometimes sit in our sun room, listen to the birds, read, do my quiet time and look out of the window. Ironically enough, when I was young, looking out the window was part of my routine as a child too, even though it was for entirely different reasons. We lived in a place called Noetown and from our window in our town home, I felt I was king of the world. You could look all the way down the entire street. You could also see the local grocery store, as people came and went with their groceries, ice cream and soda pop. And why did I sit at our window on Saturday mornings? To watch for the milk man to pull up to the grocery store. His name was Buddy Mike (still not sure what his real first name is), and he was definitely a prominent figure from early years. Each Saturday that big white and red truck would pull to the side of "Walt's Grocery", and I would beg my parents to take me over across the street to see Buddy. While I waited on my parents to get ready, I would sometimes raise the window and yell "Hey Buddy Mike" and he would always peek out of the back door in his truck and respond "Hey there little man!" As we would make our way over, I knew what was coming. I could hardly wait as we walked what seemed to be at the slowest pace. About the time we would approach the truck I would hear "Come on in here and lets see what we got". Buddy always seemed to know when we were close without ever seeing us coming. My dad would sit me up in his truck and I remember the sights of that truck always fascinated me. There were towers of crates, some holding buttermilk, sour cream and even ice cream, but those things were not what I came for. About the time I would finish scanning everything with my eyes, Buddy would pop out from behind a tower of milk and say "Is that what your looking for?" and hand me a small kid size chocolate milk! I would enthusiastically say "Yes sir!" and take the milk right out of his hand. As a kid, I thought this was something every milk man did for children everywhere, but in reality it wasn't. Buddy would sometimes pick me up and carry me into the store to help stock the shelf, all while telling me how big I was getting and treating me like I was his very own grandson. Even as I got older, when Buddy would see me out he would go to the back of his truck and get a chocolate milk to give to me. Buddy was always kind, and usually always willing to give with a smile. I noticed as I got older that Buddy was a friend of our families, who was there whenever there was a death or difficulty in life. Back then to have somebody like that in a community was special. Somebody who worked in your community, somebody you could trust and somebody who cared about others. Today, that is a rare find, but I am thankful that it was something I was able to experience. Buddy reminds me sometimes of Jesus in the idea that he was always willing to give, most times before I even ask. James 1:17 says all good and perfect gifts come down from the Father of lights! I am humbled that God would even want to bless us and give us things, and yet He is more than willing and able! Thank God for a man like Buddy Mike who in simple ways, taught me to love others and give whatever I could. He also taught me to invest in others, especially those younger and show love in work or outside of the job! Thank you Lord for allowing me to grow up around people like Buddy Mike, the milk man!