He walked into the Bible study with his guitar and a big smile on his face. It was 1981, but he was a leftover hippie with long hair, a beard, boots, and a suede vest. He picked me up for dates in a brown VW bug that was older than me and often brought along his guitar and serenaded me with songs made famous by the Beatles or Van Morrison. On Sundays, he volunteered at church leading worship. After our wedding, there were three of us in the marriage, so it was a bit crowded— with Ron, his guitar and me. “Put the guitar down and take me to the hospital!” I insisted, when in labor with our first child. We acquired guitars as quickly as we did children. He earned a living with his music and lyrics. The years passed quickly and we now have four grown children, ten grandchildren, numerous guitars, 1 bass, two ukuleles, and a mandolin. He still has a big smile on his face.