It is windy… cold and windy. I pull my coat tight against me and continue down the dusty path. I look to my left and see the lonely meandering river. It giggles as it rushes past me, for it knows so many of my secrets. In its deep depths, I learned how to trust. On its sandy beach, I learned how to love.

I look to the hill in front of me. It seems smaller than I remember. We used to pull our sleds up its steep sides, and play all day long. When we tired of that, we would build various sorts of snow creatures. Then, as the sun would slip from the sky, we would race back home for hot chocolate and popcorn.

I walk a little farther, until I spot the tree. This is where we would enter into our magical world of make-believe. One day, we would be tigers fighting for survival. The next, we would be orphans lost in the jungle. Another, we would be the characters from Little Women. We could be anyone, anywhere.

As I continue down this road, I see many different things… some good, some bad, but all on my road none-the less. My dusty, dirt road has taken many unexpected turns since I started on it. I’m sure I will find more, but that’s not really the point of this road is it? The point of a road is the destination.

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