A random evening finds a little faith restored

Sometimes fate yields incredible rewards.
I was enjoying a beautiful Friday on the turf inside the blue oval that is Drake Stadium watching a bunch of Fort Madison student athletes and a Central Lee Hawk give their best amongst the state’s best.
It wasn’t lost on me that Dr. Andy Crozier, Superintendent of Central Lee schools, was there on the grounds to congratulate the one student from that district that made it to the IGHSAU/IHSAA State Track meet.
Crozier is on the control board of IHSAA so he has a little clout, no doubt earned. But one student out of the entire school makes it to the state meet in the 400 hurdles in the form of senior Kegan Damico and the leader of the district is there to congratulate him on his efforts. He ran a :58 something, about six seconds off his best time, but he was all joy and pride after the event.
I watched the Bloodhounds’ Brylie Lorence finish 2nd in the girls' 3A shotput and be disappointed she didn’t give more, which says a lot considering Fort Madison hasn’t had a girl finish that high in that event in a very long time. I watched Dayton Lamar finish 6th in the Class 3A boys' long jump and be upset he didn’t do more, even though he only started competing in long jump this year.
And as I sat there on what can only be described as a perfect day – low 70s with little breeze and very few clouds – I thought about what the evening would hold. Work is what it usually holds, but I needed to run a few errands and grab a meal.
So I worked for about four hours until dinner pangs started banging around my head. My brother called from his home asking what I was doing that night. He thought I had returned home from Des Moines. That’s because I said I would be home Friday night, but as I looked at the schedule Thursday morning, I realized there was more to do Saturday, so I added a day to my hotel stay.
When he realized that I wasn’t coming home, his wife suggested I hook up with some high school friends and their kids who live in West Des Moines. I reached out and immediately heard back that I should come by the house.
I still had some work I could’ve done, but I thought 'what the heck, I’m here and I haven’t seen their family in a while'. Their son played for the Bees a few summers back. But short of that, we’d only seen each other a few times since then, usually via social media.
So, I went by for a short chat and was quickly dragooned into the dinner party at a restaurant nearby. After a short tour through the vegetable and herb garden, we hopped into their car and headed into West Des Moines. It was a great opportunity to get caught up, and to meet some new friends. Her husband Keith and I stayed at the restaurant for about three hours and just chatted over politics. It was eye-opening as I mostly sat and took it all in. I can go wonky as anyone, but this was more fun to watch transpire.
We went back to their place after dinner so I could say goodbye to everyone. Keith invited me into the house and his wife, Jean, whom I had gone to high school, and apparently college, with took us back to a craft room where she told me she had been working on something and wanted me to see it.
Keith said, “You’re gonna make him cry”.
I looked at him confused and she lifted a frame off something she had been working on for a few years.
It took my breath away, literally. I mean I gasped. This isn’t anything I would have fathomed coming to Des Moines. I wasn’t even planning on meeting up with them.
She had taken a graduation photo of Kelsey and my mother and turned it into a paint-by-number. She had been working on it for more than a year. I covered my mouth because I wasn’t sure what in the world was going to come out. I don’t have tears anymore. I think my ducts are empty, but she had created a piece of art that almost had my mother coming off the canvass. I just remember how clear and perfect it was. Mom had a dress that had sequins or something on it, and Jean was telling me how complicated it was.
It was gorgeous. She had captured the smile on Kelsey’s face perfectly, the color of her hair perfectly, and mom’s look of joy and pride - perfectly. My mind shifted immediately to where I would put this wonderful gift.
It wasn’t done, and she didn’t let me take it. She said she was nervous that I wouldn’t like it. It’s perfect. It needs to be hung and cared for. I cannot shake the feeling of how alive that painting was to me the moment I saw it. It was literally smiling right at me. Both my mother, who died in 2024, and my daughter who died four years before, were right there smiling at me in this home of a wonderful family, who for about a year and half, unbeknownst to me, had been thinking about me.
Anyone who really knows me will tell you I’m uncomfortable with that kind of attention. I don’t think any of us really think we deserve or are entitled to have someone give of themselves to us.
But I’m pretty sure that at that very moment, some of my faith in humanity, which has been tested tremendously over the past five years, was restored.
The painting is beautiful. I can’t wait to hang it in my house and that’s Beside the Point, because the gesture will remain with me for as long as I can carry it.
Thanks, Jeanie-bell!
Chuck Vandenberg is editor and co-owner of Pen City Current and can be reached at Charles.V@PenCityCurrent.com.