A healing place


This afternoon as I walked with my children in the sunshine, I stumbled upon my old haunts. We journeyed to my childhood home, and I pointed to where my mother once planted marigolds and to the tree I loved, which stood on the other side of the fence.

I took my children to the tiny treed playground, next to my house. My children played in the swings, where the sunlight fell, and tried to see, who could touch the sky the fastest. Strangely, enough, I had been dreaming about this place. Haunting dreams. To return to my childhood home with my children, gave me peace and happiness. I knew those strange dreams, would become replaced with new happy dreams. The place where I wandered as a child, had become a healing place.

After we left my dwelling place, I strolled past the high school I loved as well as the foot worn path I had journeyed along, to and from school. We kept walking until we crossed the field that belonged to the elementary school I had detested as a child. But at the far end of the field, the orchard where I had spent many childhood hours, was still there. It was the place where I would escape to at recess to find peace and solace. It was the place with the secret path to the other side where tree-lined streets stood, with tidy lawns and quiet houses. I often followed the path to the land away from the confines of a school where I felt i didn’t belong.

As I cut through the beautiful orchard with my children, to the other side, I smiled. There was peace now.



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