How often does it happen that next-day Thanksgiving turkey leftovers can be served to someone who has not had turkey the day before?
So it was with exceptional joy that I was able to offer a place at our dinner table to my dear friend, Neha, back home for a brief break from Seton Hill in PA. Not the greatest home visit for her–she hadn’t even unpacked her bags or taken them from her car by last night. Busy, family stuff, driving the long journey home and back to school take a space of time that makes it seem so very much shorter than it is. Some of us will visit her tonight as she has so graciously offered to entertain us. And, she must also, as some of us, squeeze in some time for study and projects for school as well.
But Neha is an amazing young woman wise beyond her years, extremely talented, creative and intelligent. Somehow, she’ll get it all done before hopping back into her car and taking off again.
But then, she was born with wanderlust, and the stops in between her journeys, of the miles or the mind, are just the plot points of her story, and the paths she takes are left marked by golden footprints as she walks.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Golden footprints gilded by friends who support them. Even wanderlust yearns companionship. And home? Who knows where that is now, nevermind the good or the bad…I’ll walk to where the road leads, and I’ll fall asleep under the sunset, and let the sands sing me back to sleep.
You’re more than just a story, my friend – you’ll always remain a golden memory.
A memory often reaffirmed in connection, I would hope.