by Andrew Taylor-Troutman
The mosquitoes were unrelenting, humidity thick and clinging; since the wet sticks failed as kindling, dinner was uncooked hot dogs and cold beans. Then the hair-raising wind blew in a storm, chasing us, howling, inside our tent, which we had only just hastily pitched. As I prayed that the blasted downpour would pass, I dared to wonder if his first camping trip could get any worse. That’s when I noticed my son’s grin. I hadn’t known it, but angels had descended. Yet I still slept on rocks like old Jacob!
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of Gently Between the Words: Essays and Poems and pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.