Honest Opinion Please............

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As part of my online activity, I do a lot of editing for new writers. The following story is submitted for your opinion. The writer has asked me to post it somewhere (and what better place than here!) for the value of constructive criticism. It is his very first story, and he is anxious to know if anyone, (besides me! lol) thinks his pursuit of writing is worth continuing. So...........honest opinions please. Thank you. Title: Northern Homecoming At the edge of a lonely northern tree lined lake, sits an old man and his wife of forty years. Behind them, the glassy still waters borders what was once their homestead. Quietly, they rest on a fallen maple. The woman leans her head against his shoulder, her hand gently rubbing his back from side to side. Together they gaze across the field on the far sideof which stands the remains of the farm house where they had raised their family. The house, like themselves, was showing it's age. Fallen shakes and shingles gave glimpses to the interior, now only populated by the old wood stove and the nests of nature's critters. The summer hand pump outside and the rusted winter one in the stone celler had been the only plumbing, as the wood stove had been the only source of heat. A Beaver breaks their silent contemplation with a slap of it's tail against the still water of the lake. The old man places his hand on her kneee and says: "Remember the first time we went fishing? He was only six." She replys with a chuckle, "He said Yay! his favorite word." They were talking about their first born son, the oldest of seven children. The old man continues, "I told him that when you feel the fish pull on the line, give it a quick snap and run up the bank." His wife adds, "But you didn't tell him how far, and he ran all the way home dragging that catfish behind him". The old man's chuckle turned into an outright laugh. His wife couldn't help but laugh with him. "Oh, he made me so angry" she said, with a fondness in her voice. "Why?", he asks. "I never knew what I would find in his pockets when I did the laundry", she said, remembering the frogs, worms, bugs and other boyhood treasures. She turns to her husband and says,"He is an adventure!". "Yep" the old man replies, "He never stops from the time he gets up 'til the time he goes to bed. It's like he has itchy feet and a fire under his butt". The silence returns and they move closer to each other, the lonely call of the loon drifting across the lake behind them. Their first born son was returning home tomorrow, wrapped in pine instead of his Dress Blues. ----------------------------------------------------- If you all are very good and very honest, I'll tell you who the writer was..........