Giants sit to see the eyes of a child.

Yesterday, after church, my husband, daughter and I were eating lunch at a local restaurant. As we ate, one of my husband's former football players came over to our table to speak to him. His words, "hey Coach Bo," rang out with a familiarity, a friendliness and confidence that was evident on this young lad's face. My husband has this loud, rumbling voice that acknowledged this fellow and in a instant you could see the excitement that he reconized the boy and his name. As my husband asked how he and his family were doing, the boy stood there, I could see the mutual respect they had for each other. As the conversation wore on the fellow explained what he had been up to since football. "Playing soccer, but I think I am going to try football again." Both of them broke into big grins. Later that afternoon, my husband and his fellow coaches had a party with their team. They ate pizza and played football with the guys. As the evening wore on so did the sore muscles, sore knees and back. My husband is barely able to walk, his whistle is still dangling around his neck and his voice is hoarse from yelling. I remember telling him to be careful when he played football with his little team, I was afraid he might fall on them and hurt them. Such a big guy with such a soft heart. I can only imagine the spit flying and the play calling in the huddle, as the little David's gathered around the giant. There is no fear. There is one assumption, the desire to play and have fun evens out the size of the players, and the biggest kid on the team must lean over to see the eyes of his players.