Sunday, June 22, 2003
Down by chapel pond beyond the pebble brook, that is where they can be found. On a hot summer afternoon when the days of long ago were filled with happiness and the sky was blue. Remember how it was, life in the country was slow and people still cared about others, especially when it came to children who wondered about the town without the thoughts of danger. Danger? Danger from what? There was no danger in that lost world.
And yes it was the grownups that did all the worrying if in fact there was anything to worry about! After all, even today when the world is full of danger why would a small child worry when we shelter them from all of the many evils in the world? What do they know about the evil which lies in wait? We shelter them from all the bad news that fills the newspapers. We have heard for so many years of our lives stories of all sorts of crime. Has it always been that way? We have come to accept that what we now know is what we have always known. But is it so? Yes, we have forgotten that we ourselves were once young and innocent. We have always had a Chapel Pond in our heart. My own story was not of Chapel Pond, an idealistic place that exists only on paper drawn from the imagination of someone who daydreams way too much. My Chapel Pond was a place called the “duck pond” in the swamps not far from a place called Snake Hill. There were several ways to get to the duck pond however the only way that mattered to me was the way that I went which was the shortest, and in my humble opinion, best way to go. And that would be to walk down through the old army camp.
Oh yes the old army camp, what a great place! That is in itself a story of my childhood which involves the remnants of a camp built during the early 1950’s for the training of tank drivers who would later fight in the Korean conflict. But I was talking about the old duck pond. So after walking through the army camp, you needed to walk down an old rail line. In winter it was so quite and peaceful. But that was how you got to the pond and then the ice skates got put on. That was the time to remember. That is a very small portion of my Chapel Pond. But this is not about my Chapel Pond or your Chapel Pond is it? No! This is a story about the “real” Chapel Pond.
If we were simply able to remember those times in our youth we can find a place inside our mind that will be a place to turn and find safe haven. Yes, a gentile peace of heart and soul during times of stress. And since the world is so very stressful, all of us could use a good break from reality every now and then. Think of it as a brief mental vacation. We can return to those days of cotton candy, fairs and good friends always there to lend a hand. Those were days of never ending friendship and of never ending sunshine. Days of summer ocean breezes and most especially days spent as families being together. It is possible. It only takes a book with a story that brings us back to the day. Yes, back in the day of youth. Back in the day of what we remember to be those “good old days” when life was sweet. I can still smell the charcoal burning on the barbecue pit. Laughter and happy children, yes you know that child, for he is inside your heart since he is you. Remember those days! They are not far away from any of us. No matter what pain life has brought us, we all have a Chapel Pond in our mind which we can call up from our past. And even if you find that you don’t have such a place feel free to claim Chapel Pond as your very own story.
The rain has been falling for days and days, yes week after week. It has rained every Saturday for the last six! The mood is so depressing without sunshine. The month of May was about the wettest May on record and June is about to break a one hundred year old record. I hope that the entire summer will not be a washout. Spring certainly was! We are creatures who were created to require sunshine. Where can I go to get away from all this rain?
Saturday, June 21, 2003
They were Days of Peace. That is what grandfather said to a small boy.
It was a time when life was simple, yes it was such a time. It was a world where people really cared about others. It was a time when the one you loved, loved you and remained true. It is a place often spoken of by the older ones. It is a place which we can reach out for only if we have the faith to believe that we can again return there.
This is a tale of courage. A story of a small boy who withdrew from the world only to learn that sometimes some of the best lessons of life come with a great price. Even though it might take years of pain to understand the reasons for pain, in the end it is well worth the journey. You see, that price is the ability to believe even when others around you don’t have faith or courage to believe. Yes, even lacking the ability to try to believe.
This is the beginning of the phase I create a legend of some note. The legend is Wind Rider. Surly you have heard the story before, as so many people have over the years. But many have forgotten the old legend. So perhaps I will find some time to tell the story or at least one small portion of it. Since as all good legends, it has many stories which have been related over the years by many children. For in reality it is in the hearts of children that Wind Rider lives. In the hearts of children that Wind Rider continues to ride in the high country.