As evidenced by the picture, the youth were prominent participants, including my young friend who proved to be my doppelgänger. Three other youth wrote an ode, which included this line: “With his fedora and tie, he’s a pretty scholarly looking guy; but if he strokes that chin much more, his beard might fall off to the floor.”
My brother-in-law chipped in with his usual dry wit, delivering gentle jabs with a deft touch. And a dear friend put together a Power Point presentation that highlighted among other things my hair’s resemblance to Bob Dylan’s and Albert Einstein’s “style.”
Oh, how we laughed and laughed! Sam was there, of course, and he clapped and clapped with the rest of us, his nose wrinkled up with a big, toothy smile. And though this roast was prompted by the release of a book about my son’s first-year, which I hope he will one day enjoy, my prayer is that Sam would know and remember this community of faith, how they have loved his father and left an indelible impression on his heart, as sure and lasting as words on a page.