blog
I was ten years old. It was autumn. And the decision was made. I was going to leave home. So I put on my small cap, made up a small lunch and took along a jar of water. Being the youngest of the family it seemed everyone was used to my wandering about. But this time would be different (or so I thought).
Maybe it was some silly argument Mom and Dad had. Maybe it was the voice of the big world calling me away....I just was not sure....
I made sure my running shoes were laced and tied properly,
and simply began a journey towards the river. I did not journey as far as Tom Hanks (in the movie Forest Gump) but here was
a little boy who discovered that yes, life is indeed a box of
chocolates...
Soon near the river the sound of coyotes. That send a chill
up my back and I could almost feel my hair standing on end.
I stopped and stared. More fields and more distance. Where was
I going? Where would I sleep? And what was I going to do for
food the next day and the next. Those thoughts were quite
perplexing for a small boy. The logical choice was to go home.
End my worldly adventure...
I would tell Mom and Dad I was visiting a friend. And as I got
close enough to see the lights of our small bungalow I started to cry. But those were tears of joy. Our black dog Tippie came out
to greet me and a small mist seemed to form over our most
beautiful garden. I could hear brother Ted playing his accordian
and sisters Doris and Marian laughing about something. The
house and yard looked more beautiful than ever.
And I would keep this secret. My secret. My journey.
And maybe this is something we all need to do, or imagine
doing, going away...for a little while....in order to return to
the place of love, where we first started....