Tell Your Story Contest Winner
Unless you were there too, you would have no idea that I grew up in a magical kingdom. It was bordered on one side by Richland Creek and on the other side by Walden’s Ridge. Some days those enchanted woods would be a pirate’s island, or the wild western frontier, or Tarzan’s jungle, or the front lines of World War II, or the battlefields where the Blue and the Gray fought it out. But even magic days come to an end, and as the sun would begin to dip behind Walden’s Ridge, thoughts would turn toward home where I knew a tasty supper would be waiting. I had many aunts and uncles, none of whom were blood kin. In the South I grew up in, "uncle" and "aunt" were titles of respect one bestowed on those who were always close, to watch, to guide, and to protect. As committed as any blood relative, these "aunts" and "uncles" all had a hand in rearing me, teaching me and correcting me and instilling in me the values of my rural Tennessee home. I grew up to become fluent in three languages, served as a volunteer in the interior of Mexico as a medical translator, and a school teacher, teaching all 36 years in the same school. I have traveled the world, and have, in the words of John Keats, "many goodly states and kingdoms seen." Life has not always been easy, and my road has often been bumpy and rough, but because of the nurture and care of my wonderful hard-working parents and the many "aunts" and "uncles" who lived on the edge of my enchanted woods, I never lost sight of my purpose--to be a decent, productive person. They are all gone now, and the magical kingdom has changed, and no one builds palaces and forts in the enchanted woods any more, but mine are still there, guarded by the best of sentinels--my sweet and blessed memory.
