My Favorite Place

Pretend:  At the easternmost location of our farm there was a pond surrounded by magnificent trees. A long hill, a great place for sledding, was the path way to my favorite spot to go. With no one to play with except my little annoying brother this was the perfect place for me to spend a hot summer afternoon alone. I found, there around that old pond, many friends: squirrels, noisy crows, frogs, turtles, dragonfies.lizards and once a large salamander which at the time I thought must have been a creature never before seen by man.

Having adopted so many wonderful mysterious friends I used them as role players for my favorite game, pretending. The frogs and turtles became enemy battleships and submarines. The dragonflies were bombers hovering over the massive sea with a mission to drop their payload on those German or Japanese ships. I had an arsenal of my own ammunition that I would hurl at those enemy ships and submarines. From a beautiful mossy knoll just off shore I had an idea launching pad to deliver a barrage of giant acorn bombs. I gathered those huge acorns that had fallen from just one majestic oak. My stockpile lasted until the enemy had been defeated as the frogs and turtles had had enough of my invasion and submerged out of site.

I could spend hours around that grand pond becoming lost in my pretend games or simply lying on the mossy knoll which I thought was every bit as elegant as the finest carpet found in the nicest houses. In those relaxing quiet moments underneath my favorite oak tree I believe I encountered the presence of God. I spoke out loud to no one, yet to the One who listens even to a small child’s non pretentious voice. Often my journey to my pond was precipitated by my fears, my worries, or something I had done that I knew I shouldn’t have done, the times when I was bothered by a world I didn’t understand. I poured out my heart not realizing that my pleas were reaching far beyond the top of that oak tree. Now that I know better the ways of my loving Father I understand that He spoke to me words that touched my heart and were becoming for me the threshold to finding his saving grace.

That magical place was my cathedral, the mossy knol my sanctuary, the pond my beautiful world in which only I could go, all precious gifts to a little boy who was learning about the ups and downs of life, and the God who would always be with him.