Victory or Defeat?

For a slice of community life, there is nothing like going to a Friday night football game! We attended last night primarily for an important event during half time, a ceremony honoring the graduating senior band members. Our grandson, Adam, accompanied by his parents, would be presented along with fellow seniors and parents, on Senior Night.

Before the recognition ceremony, the band had played valiantly several stirring anthems, such as “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, in a precision marching formation across the field. We strained our eyes to see Adam, and I finally picked him out when the trumpet section separated from the others for their featured emphasis. He stood tall and proud, feet expertly executing the steps of the routine while raising his trumpet in harmonic symphony with the band.

It was a bittersweet moment for the seniors, this their farewell performance on the home field. Not only for those in the band, but for seniors in the cheerleading squad, the drill team, and of course, the football players, who were recognized prior to the game. Tears were evident among the young girls dabbing their eyes and embracing fellow cheer leaders and marching pals as they exited the field after memorable performances.

Huddled under a blanket, I had come prepared and fortified against the cold with a cushion to sit on, a throw across my lap and wearing a coat and sweater. Thankfully, it wasn’t as cold as the previous night, but as the hour grew late, the night grew colder. Most were wearing coats and jackets, many with knitted hats pulled over ears, some with blankets draping, but the young and brave were often coatless. I even saw one girl in a sleeveless, bare-necked summer top who seemed oblivious of the temperature.

Not being a football fan, I didn’t lack for entertainment just watching the cross-section of people who maintained a continuous parade in front of me back and forth to the refreshment area or just moving from place to place. I loved seeing the children, their eyes full of expectancy and excitement, milling here and there, trailing after friends and not watching the game at all. I thought of my young granddaughters probably doing the same thing at their brothers’ games in Georgia and Tennessee.

We left after half-time, so I don’t know how the game turned out, although the home team was ahead when we went home. Like the game of life, many will leave before it is over for others. Life is a series of growth and goodbyes, each level leading to higher plateaus and achievements. Since no one knows when their life might be interrupted for that final scoring, we would do well to live in a state of preparedness, ever listening for that final trumpet blast that signifies an end to life as we know it and the beginning of life everlasting.