What's in a Miracle?
Not a hole-in-one, but a Miracle nonetheless
It
was a Christmas afternoon – a bit chilly (37º),
but sunny and still despite that, and I was playing golf with my 22-year-old
daughter. She had made her
first-ever birdie on the par 3 fourth – a well-struck nine-iron which rolled
up to five feet, and darned if she didn’t manage to sink it.
We strolled around the course (which we basically had to ourselves),
enjoying an easy companionship, not to mention the weak afternoon sun. On
the ninth hole, my drive had strayed right (as it is wont to do) over to a
grassy knoll in the rough just right of the fairway bunker that sits about 100
yards out. It was a decent lie, and
so I played my sand wedge, hitting a fairly reasonable shot.
The ball landed left of the pin near the front of the green, took a big
bounce (frozen greens this time of the year), and rolled out of sight over a
slight undulation (the green is also elevated, making it difficult to see from
where I stood). I shouldered my bag
and walked up to the green, whistling nonchalantly, secure in the knowledge that
even if it had rolled off the back, I still had a fighting chance to get up and
down.
However,
when I reached the green, I discovered (to steal a phrase from Arlo Guthrie)
that there was another possibility I hadn’t even considered.
The ball was lost. Vanished
without a trace. Nowhere to be
found. I looked first in the hole,
just because I’m an incurable optimist. Then
I looked in the two sand traps on the left.
I looked under the rake. I
looked under the pine tree. I
looked in the deep rough running up the hill behind the green.
I looked down the slope toward the cart path.
I looked everywhere there was to look.
At
first, I thought it was a cruel trick of fate, to lose a ball after what
appeared to be a good shot, with the added taunt of actually having struck the
green. Gradually though, I changed
my point of view. It was a miracle.
Oh, surely it was a minor miracle in comparison with the other miracles
of the day. Being able to play golf
on Christmas day in Colorado. Enjoying
the company of my daughter. Basking
in the early winter sunshine. Celebrating
a peaceful Holiday with a billion or so other people who normally quarrel and
fight and compete with each other. And
that’s not to mention the miracle of the Holiday itself…
Yes,
it was an insignificant miracle, but it was at least as entertaining as watching
a magician’s slight of hand in making the Ace of Spades disappear.
Better exercise too!
Merry
Christmas!
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