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This came to us from Mary Rutherford, a coach from Pineville Elementary School, North Carolina. The props were all tucked in the trailer with care, in hopes that tournament day soon would be there. The teammates were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of Ranatra Fuscas danced in their heads. My son in his PJ's and I in my thinking cap had just snuggled down for a short night's nap. When out on the driveway there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I ran with a dash, tore open the miniblinds and batted my lash. For what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a nice older fellow and seven tiny O-meer. I knew in an instant it must be Dr. Sam, for you will never meet a more likable man! He was dressed in an Odyssey shirt and wore pins from head to toe, that made a faint jingle wherever he did go. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head soon led me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work. He checked all the props, then reviewed our paperwork. And laying his finger aside of his nose, he gathered his O-meer and struck a friendly pose. "You my good coach have done very well. There's no outside assistance of which I can tell. Your team members thought carefully all for themselves. They worked even harder than Santa's own elves. No one should take more pride than you in what these amazing children have proven they can do!" Before I could think of something spontaneous to say, Dr. Sam and his O-meer had driven away. But I heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight, |