When I was a kid, maybe 12 years old, my dad took a trip to the Holy Land with his father and his brother.
I asked him to bring me a wood carving of a cow. I think I mentioned it several times, the way I do.
It would have been so easy for him to say he couldn’t find one, and that would have been that. I wouldn’t be thinking about it some fifty years later.
But dad accepted the assignment, and later told me how he searched the markets.
So I know my dad thought of me on that trip, and that is the important part.
I still have the cow, carved out of olive wood, but my dad’s search for it is what makes it special.