The Fountain

                                                        The Fountain


I've been going there for over thirty-five years, off and on, two or three times a year. I took my boys there when they were little. There were lots of parents doing the same thing Sunday afternoon. It is a bit of an oasis for me in a place I'd normally hate to be, but it provides a nice place to sit and observe. The large fountain at North Park Mall in Dallas is a great place to watch people and it draws kids like a magnet. I learned a lot Sunday.

More kids seem to walk around the circular wall of the fountain than when I took my little boys there. Maybe parents today don't worry about their kids falling in like I did. Maybe the kids today have better balance. Maybe parents don't stop their kids as much. Maybe all of that, maybe none of that is true but a lot of kids walked on top of the wall the fifty feet around the fountain. More kids lay on on their bellies on top of the wall and stick their hands in the water and splash now than back then. I didn't think that was allowed thirty plus years ago, I guess I was wrong. I've been going there all this time and didn't know the nozzles around the circumference of the fountain were adjustable and flexible. Sunday's kids were twisting and turning and having a ball. I let my kids sit and throw pennies in the fountain. Not many kids threw money in Sunday and none of them fell in walking around or leaning over and splashing in the fountain either.

The fountain is a great place just to people watch. You see more tats than thirty plus years ago. I wonder if you can get a tattoo at North Park now? You see more platform shoes, too. Women look so uncomfortable in those things and terribly off-balanced. I should have been worrying about the ladies in platform shoes tilting forward, losing balance and falling into the fountain instead of the kids. I observed one lady about 45 years of age trying to look 25. She was on her eight inch platforms, wearing designer jeans that were torn all over, a wrap-around puffy top with three or four large necklaces that clanked when she walked. I'd bet she had on over a thousand dollars with of clothes. It takes a lot of money to look that tacky. Lady Goo-Ga would be proud.

What really caught my eye was the ethnic diversity and the young parents and their children at the fountain. There were several languages I overheard Sunday. Kids were being told in Spainish, English, I think Ukrainian, Korean, and Texan what to do or not to do. There was a family from Guatemala there. I could tell by the accent that it was Guatemalian Spainish, that, and the tee shirts that said "Guatemala." Those kids had a great time splashing and twisting the nozzles. An Asian-American couple had two little girls walking the fountain wall. The first time around I feared they would fall in, the second time I just marveled at their balance-nary a bobble nor a slip. These kids were good and giggled a lot, their parents in typical Asian  fashion were a bit more reserved in their expressiveness, but you could tell they loved their girls. A Muslim couple, obvisously, a more moderate sect was at the fountain. She wore nice jeans, slight heels, and the traditional headdress. He was in jeans and an untucked dress shirt and a nice watch. Their little girl was about seven had the curliest, frizziest hair and loved splashing in the water. They spoke English with an accent and were playful and in a modest way affectionate. They touched arms, held hands a moment, leaned into each other. This threesome loved each other and the day. It was neat to watch them. A thoroughly modern couple brought their two little kids to the fountain. The mom's largess was obvious, she needed a bigger tank-top. Dad was in a sleeveless shirt and had tats from wrist to neck on one side. He had a head condition of some sorts I guess. Anyway, his cap wouldn't sit on his straight and angled off to the side. His three year old boy had lots of long hair and the most absolutley, wickedly cute smile I've ever seen. When he smiled his whole face and body laughed. He was all boy--splashing, jumping, running and looking to dad for approval or direction. This family was having a good day.

I really wanted to talk with these families. They dress differently than I. They let their kids do things I wouldn't let mine do (I was probably wrong). What were their hopes and dreams for these beautiful kids? What are the values they want them to possess? Are there any old, white guys they talk to in their life? There aren't any folks in my life like you but I wish there were. I want to know what you know about Jesus and I want you to know what He thinks about you. What could an old, white guy from another time and another world from theirs tell them? What do you say to tattooed people, platformed people, crooked-hat people, torn jeans people, Latin people, Asian people, Muslim people, young people and people trying to look young? I'd tell them maybe we aren't so different. We want to love and be loved. We want our kids happy and healthy and safe. We want them to do well and know how to make it this life. If we are brave or honest enough we want to know what is beyond this life.

What would I tell them about God? I'd tell them what I know about Him through Jesus--that they are loved; they are forgiven; they are accepted. These truths we all have in common and that makes us closer than the differences divide us. I'd tell them how I know these things--through the cross of Christ. And if we kept talking to and learning from and trusting each other, I'd one day tell them the words to a song, in a way recalling the fountain at which we met. The words tell of a different fountain that draws all men from all ages and all backgrounds because of our common need (forgiveness of sin) and God's uncommon love. I guess fountains do that.

There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel's veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood, lose all their guilty stains....

It's good to fall in this fountain,
Cos
Zech 13:1