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Our Life
by Elsie Schuett Flynn Dear You, You know, I look back on our life kind-of-like riding the back-roads, cruising around like all the locals did. Before we were us, we rode with our moms and dads in their cars. Then, we got out of their cars, became us, and got our own car. How blissful; it was just you and me. Just us. We added to our car, our children, one by one. They rode with us until they were grown. One by one, they left our car, and us, got mates and a car of their own, and added to it their children, one by one and even two. The roads were, for the most part, pleasant ones. Landscapes changed with the seasons. So did the road surfaces. Smooth pavements making for easy driving became hazardous with snow and or ice; and later, potholes to dodge. Then they were bumpy. How blissful; it was just you and me again. Just us. One day, we wound up at the point where the paved road ended and the dirt road began. Not able to drive the car any further, we left it behind and walked. There were two tracks, probably from the big tractor wheels, and a grassy strip down the center. A path traveled often, but slowly. The dirt parts were bumpy and had holes that turned to mud pits when it rained, but the grass patch down the center was inviting to walk on. Along this dirt road, we passed lanes that cut through the golden fields. Suddenly, you stopped. "This is where I turn off," you said. I watched you walk up the lane, up the slope until you got to the top. You gave me a final wave, and then leapt into the blue of the sky, like a little kid getting to his favorite place in the whole wide world. Then you were gone. I knew that leap for joy was because you finally saw the One you longed to see with your own eyes all your life. I didn't think you still had it in you to jump like that! That sight encouraged me enough to wipe the tears from my eyes and continue down the grassy patch. Maybe someone will come and walk along beside me; maybe not, I don't know. But this I do know: my turn-off is down there, just a little further, and when I get to the crest of the slope, I'll be leaping for joy too, just like you. Love, Me www.elsieflynn.blogspot.com please notify author when printing / reprinting this article [email protected] Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |