Building a Log Cabin
You Are Really Smart; I’ll Tell My Brother

Last Saturday was probably the loveliest of all the fall days…at least in Indianapolis. I was visiting my grandsons, and we decided to take a walk to the park. We have gone to the park during the summers or gone to the adjacent pool, but this day was different. It was a bright, sunny day in the 50s. It was a fun time for me especially since I had my camera. It would have been difficult to take a bad picture on this beautiful day.

I have taught Jack and Owen art history even before they started school. They know more about the arts than most adults. One sculpture that they know is that of Rodin’s The Thinker.

"The Thinker is thinking."

On warmer days, Jack and Owen thought. However, because they are both bright and thinkers, they also thought on this much cooler day this fall.

They love climbing trees….

Jack is attempting to rival Ti Ti as a magician. “Look no hands.”

Then, from across the park, came a friend of Jack and Owen’s. His name was Jordan.

They talked for a while before they started to play in the little puddle next to the Thinking Rock.

Jack and Owen enjoyed it, but Jordan just watched and thought. Apparently, since he was near the magical Thinking Rock, he was thinking. Then he verbalized his great thought, “Let’s build a log cabin…but let’s put it in the tree.”

Jordan broke off some branches and dipped the ends in mud of a puddle. Then he carried the twigs to the tree where Owen was having trouble keeping a branch connected to the tree. It just wouldn’t stick to the two trunks of the tree.

Then Jordan attempted to use the muddy mortar to attach the branches to the tree. However, it didn’t adhere to the tree. He went back to the puddle and returned with more fresh mud on the branches. However, the mud on the branches still didn’t stick.

I was standing there watching the three boys work and fail. I put down my camera and suggested that they used the mud but then take a branch horizontally a couple inches above the V-shaped trunk of the tree. Then pull it down to the lower part of the V-shaped trunk.

Jordan was still quite close to the Thinking Rock and decided to try my suggestion. He did as I suggested, and it worked. Talk about being happy; he was ecstatic. Jordan then said, “Hey, you are really smart; I’m going to tell my brother about you.”

I just smiled and thought about what people have called me over my 75-years. Some weren’t positive, but, in the past year, two people have called me something very positive. Fatty, one of my granddaughters in Myanmar, calls me, Bo Bo Gyi. Bo Bo Gyi means great grandfather in Burmese. He is a guardian spirit or nat for the Buddhist in Myanmar. He is like what we, in the West, would call a saint. Well, more accurately, Bo Bo Gyi is a very old and venerable saint.

The other person is Sandy, my web administrator, who refers to me as a noble person. Interestingly, my nobility comes from wanting to help my granddaughters in Myanmar. Interestingly, in a couple of months after the IRS approves my paperwork for a 501c3, I can begin the process of raising $500,000 for 1250 laptops and improved Internet reception at the two schools that my granddaughters attend.

Therefore, this essay is my way of thanking Jordan for his comment about me. When we see each other again, he can still refer to me as smart. However, he can also call me Bo Bo Gyi or Noble. He might even think a bit and combine the three names together: Bo Bo Gyi, the smart Noble.