I was ten years old when I created this chalk drawing on black construction paper. I can still feel the way the chalk felt in my fingers, as I drew it across the paper--I can see the lighting of the room and I remember I knew exactly how to draw this man's face. Mrs. Young, my teacher was amazed.
Mom loved it so much she hung it on the wall of the stairway which led to my sister and my room. It hung there until I was in my late teens and I found a frame for it.
Thirty years later, I took the drawing out of its frame to scan it into the computer, so I could upload it onto an art website I had at that time.
That's when I noticed the tears. I was floored. There were what looked like tear stains dripping onto his cheeks.
I was astonished and more than a little in awe. If you click to enlarge the picture, you can clearly see where the tears trickled from his eyes down through the chalk. I often wonder about those tears. I wonder. I do. So many miraculous things have happened in my life.
Today the drawing hangs on my office wall. It reminds me that mysterious, miraculous things really do happen.
Sometimes they occur through the innocent hands of a little child wielding a piece of chalk against a thick piece of black construction paper.