Thursday, May 12, 2005

Before Mike Could Write

Our neighbor's young grandson was a frequent visitor. He'd knock at my door and ask if I could go for a walk. We'd work our way the two blocks to the local Museum. On the parked caboose we traveled the world, and had stories to tell when we got home. Our adventures were grand crossing the prairie, mountains, sea and flying, and we tasted the food. Buffalo cooked on an open fire was just okay, it needed ketchup.

When we weren't walking, or picking up sticks and discarded cans at the Museum, we'd sit in my swing. He'd tell me stories he thought should be written. His mother listened and wrote them down for him before he could write. I wondered where he got them and asked where he was before he was born. Without hesitation four-year old Mike replied, "I was with God and He was so good to me."

This weekend he graduates from High School. He's still writing. In the fall he will go off to college to write some more. He wants to travel the world. Now he'll write his own adventures, and his mother will read them.

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