Huggy Hello's and a warm welcome hug from "Grandma Angel"

Dream Weaver

"That one's for you, Daddy!" yelled Matthew Ryan Emrich,

not yet nine, looking to the sky, as he

circled the bases with his fist held high. Matthew

had just hit his first home run as a

member of his Little League team - a grand slam

on his "Field of Dreams!"

His father, Mark, had always wanted to be a

professional baseball player. He tried out and survived several

"cuts," but never lived his dream - a dream instilled

and supported by his father, Chet.

Mark continued to play on sandlot teams and taught

neighborhood children how to play. When Matthew was born

on July 30, 1985, Mark promised himself he would share

his dream with his son. By the time Matthew

was four, he was hitting a baseball over the

neighbor's roof.

Matthew's uniform number -7- was the same as his father's.

He was so pleased that his daddy loved him, as

he enjoyed the family tradition. After all, the movie

"Field of Dreams," is not just about baseball - it's

about fathers and sons and it's about faith!

Sadly, yet with great faith, Mark bravely faced, but lost,

a hard-fought battle with cancer. He was 33.

The Sunday that Mark died, he had entered the hospital

for "observation only." The doctors had promised that he

could be released to see Matthew's first game on

Monday afternoon.

Family and friends knew that Matthew would play the next

day, just as his father would have wished. Little did

Matthew know that the promise he had made to his

mother, Sherry, that "My first ball will be hit for

my daddy," would be heard by a much

higher, ever-present power.

The comment that Matthew's achievement, "probably knocked his father off

the cloud from which he was watching," sums up

the victories of this life for all of us, doesn't it?

By Ronald D. Eberhard





Discouraged?

As I was driving home from work one day, I

stopped to watch a local Little League baseball game that was

being played in a park near my home. As I sat down behind

the bench on the first-baseline, I asked one of the boys

what the score was.

"We're behind 14 to nothing," he answered with a smile.

"Really," I said. "I have to say you don't look very discouraged."

"Discouraged?" the boy asked with a puzzled look on

his face. "Why should we be discouraged? We haven't been up

to bat yet."

By Jack Canfield