Connected
 
       Jude and I have a father and son activity that we have enjoyed since he was a toddler - fishing.  Part of our fishing tradition is to eat breakfast at an old truck stop cafe on our way to the lake.  It is a classic, western, cafe.  We sat in the vinyl-backed chairs, ordered coffee, breakfast and talked about the fish we were going to catch.     I took a moment to look around the cafe and began to notice the people around me.  A young Hispanic woman was cutting the food for her five-year-old daughter.  They sat together, and the mother had a tired look in her eyes, yet she looked at her daughter with pure love.  Directly behind us was a family of 12 smiling, laughing, and pointing at the menu.   One son wore a t-shirt from a local synagogue, and the other wore a Santa's hat.      Next to our table a Native American family of 7 was talking.  They had that graceful presence found in native people.  One of their grandchildren was runn...
 
