During a recent move to a new home, I found a handwritten assignment I wrote for a college English class from MANY years ago. At a friend’s request, I share it now.
The tall supple green blades of wild grass waved beckoningly. How I longed to run recklessly through the field and forge paths though the three-foot high weeds! Such were my thoughts as I passed the field while walking to elementary school.
My family lived on a dead-end street. The twelve homes on our block housed an abundance of kids. Most of us were only three years difference in age. And all of us thoroughly enjoyed romping through the field that lay invitingly at the end of our street. We would descend on the field in great numbers in hope some magical metamorphosis would take place. We believed we owned this field…it was our private oasis in suburbia.
On this particular day as I trudged reluctantly to school, I thought back to the previous day’s adventures in the field.
I was in the field with my two younger brothers. We stood amid the tall wild grass to behold our wonderous field. It measured two blocks across by six blocks long. To our inexperienced eyes, it was the singular most significant piece of real estate anywhere and was obviously created just for our enjoyment!
As we scanned our field, we had an important decision to make. How would we best use our time and our field on this day? Should we fly a kite or play ball? Or perhaps we could play tag or maybe climb the only tree in the field and be spies in the treehouse. No, none of those diversions was just right this time. What then? A-ha!!
Today we would become trail blazers and fashion complex trails through the weeds!!
With excitement and no concern about grass stains, I got down on my hands and knees. The weeds become trees, great tall obstacles I couldn’t see over. I inched forward and the first pliant blades easily bent forward. I moved on and tamped down clump after clump. As I looked behind, I could see that I was blazing a fine trail that zig zagged across the field. My two brothers were busy blazing their trails too. We continued on our hands and knees going one way, then another, tamping down the grass in front of us. When we finished, we stood and surveyed our handiwork. We had created a maze of trails in the tall grassy weeds! We felt the pride of a project engineer who has just completed a complex paving project. With delight, we tromped through the trails we had made. We felt like pioneers who had just found the way through a vast wasteland. It was pure bliss!
My mind drifted back. I was almost to school now. Just seven more hours and I could be back in my green field planning my next adventure. I could hardly wait!!
(As I read this story now, I recall that day so many years ago. Although its a simple tale, it is still vivid in my mind and it truly was blissful. This is just one memory from a very happy childhood. It really doesn’t take much to make an ordinary day turn into a joy to recall. Its the little things in life that mean the most. I’ve been blessed with so many happy memories! And yes, the field still exists!)
Fond memories of childhood. When all else is gone, our memories will still be ours 🙂