An Ordinary Childhood

Rays of sun burst upon the horizon to proclaim a new spring day.

> Lying on my bed, in the flutter of a blanket used for a curtain, the wind enters borne on the breeze of a new spring day, bringing with it the promise of warmer than seasonal weather. So much joy can be found in the small corners of life, if we just seize the opportunity to stop there. The day calls; with it, the promise of life in all it's activity.

 

> God entered my life as an infant when Mother dedicated her first born in a church when still wearing booties knitted by my father's mother. Soon as I could talk, she taught me "Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep". Mother made sure I had party dresses to wear and put me on the Sunday school bus every week, because my little legs could not reach the expanse between steps. She never went with me and only sent my brother and sister when they were older. She insisted they experience it once to see if they liked it.  When they were older, they did attend a couple times. They found no attraction to return to Sunday school.

 

> I accepted the teachings and existence of God in a matter-of-fact way. Talking to God became a common activity for me at an early age. I can remember some of the childlike conversations after wishing upon the first star of the night in the northern sky.

 

 

> There was nothing particularly special about myself or my childhood. I didn't think about it one way or another. Just a child growing up like all others, learning to talk, tie my shoes and cut new teeth. There was the common awareness of my small world and the sense of everything existing around me. The major difference from kids I went to school with was the single parent household and less income after my father left. In 1955, the single parent home was still uncommon. I was eight years old when "Daddy" left his wife and three children for a teenage girl.

 

> Before he left, we had a nice two-bedroom house in a suburb - a new concept back then. We played with neighborhood kids and attended a new brick schoolhouse. We caught pollywogs from a local pond, played "dress up" with our mother's clothes, and hide and seek with our friends. My memory still plays images of them across the broad screen of my mind.

"Children see magic because they look for it." - Christopher Moore