Mike, our neighbor's young grandson, was a frequent visitor. He'd knock at our backdoor and ask if I could go for a walk. We'd work our way the two blocks to the Saunders County Museum. On the parked caboose we traveled the world. Our adventures were grand: crossing the prairie, mountains, sea and flying. Bison cooked on an open fire was just okay. He said, "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 stories he thought should be written. His mother listened and wrote them down for him before he could write. I asked, "Where were you before you were 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 still wants to travel the world. I suspect he'll write his own adventures his mother and I will enjoy reading.
©2005 Red Convertible Travel Series