she said they were pretty.

i asked if she wanted me to pick her one.

she said sure.

i reached up and snapped a clump of two or three blossoms for her.

we stood on that sidewalk for a moment. she smelled the blossoms, lifted them towards my face. i smelled them.

we continued walking.

i have slept in at least two churches in my time. and not during service, or that sense, but overnight. once for a good half week.

i dont know if i ever told this story, here, or not, but i will tell it again.

in may, the week after mothers day, when i was on tour, we were in florida.

a few of us went to do some laundry. to kill time we went outside, some of us to smoke, others just to be outside.

i glanced over to the trash can and, sitting on top, in a crumpled burger kings bag, was a piece of paper with a drawing on it.

it was a kid's drawing. so i reached in and picked it up and out.

just to see what a kid would draw.

it was an orange boy on green grass. a blue sky with a yellow sun. drawn in, of course, crayon.

in pen there was hair on the boy, eyes and a smile for the sun.

where the horizon was was actually where the paper was folded onto itself, and taped.

i slid my finger into the flap, moved the tape back.

inside was a note to a mom.

"dear mom, i love you very much you are the best mom in the whole world. so i gav you this pot and flower for mothers day. i love you very very very very very v---ery much. i lov you love, david wallace"

i was dumbfounded.

how could a mother throw this away?

i passed the card around, showing it to people. asking how that could be in the trash, in a burger kings bag.

i hope the mom threw it away on accident. or a grown kid had done it as a joke for another friend.

i hope it wasn't on purpose.

i slid the card in my pocket and kept it.

for david wallace.