The Road that Led Home

(I just found this in my drafts. I meant to post this months ago, but I guess it never quite made it. So here's an easy blog to compose today :)

"The friends who grew up with you deserve a special respect. The ones who stuck by you, shoulder to shoulder, when nothing was certain, all of life lay ahead, and every road led home."- The Wonder Years

I absolutely love The Wonder Years- always have- and I especially love its quotes. (I even secretly put one into my high school annual my Senior year- oh, the perks of being an editor). Obviously, I love this quote above then, but it also goes along with some wise words I heard this past year during a weekend at home. My Uncle Rick was talking about friends, and he said that in life, you were lucky if you had two true friends. In the back of my mind, I smiled because this was the exact number that had been beside me throughout my childhood. Throughout elementary school, middle school, and especially high school, two friends were there for absolutely everything. We stood "shoulder to shoulder" in the midst of bad hair days, embarrassing days where one of us spit a carrot across a table and nailed the current boyfriend straight in the face or another hit a parked school van during the middle of the first soccer game, days of celebration when one of became Prom Queen and when another was becoming the next Sharapova, days of trials when we experienced death and loss and failure, days where boys broke our hearts and proved they had no heart themselves in the process, days where the sun couldn't shine brighter and days of learning to dance in the rain- basically days where nothing was certain, all of life lay ahead of us, and days when these girls WERE the road that led home. So without further ado, please let me introduce to you Dos and Tres (we will get to that later).

DOS. She is absolutely going to kill me when she sees this picture, but I can't help it. It sums up why I love her so much and what role she played in our friendship. If you can't tell, she is dressed as a tiger (isn't she adorable?), and this is what Maidee Parker has been for me throughout growing up. If you read my blog back in October, you read where I said Maidee Parker puts you in her box and fights for you when you can't fight for yourself. Likewise, Maidee Parker is a tiger for me in the sense that she is fierce in her life, and this strength permeates into the lives of those she surrounds. Maidee Parker has literally been that friend who has been around since Kindergarten, and she has always been a fighter. From pulling me up a THOUSAND times on a mountain in Lake Tahoe, Nevada, forcing me to not give up and learn how to snowboard as a thirteen year-old to literally sitting in the emergency room stretcher with me as a nineteen-year-old with TWO concussions, Maidee Parker has always been the magnet that held everything together. She was the tiger who wouldn't let you roam the "jungles" of life alone, and she made you strong in your moments of weakness. Looking back at all of the hard times in life, Maidee Parker was always there with an outstretched hand and a hand that taught you how to fight.As I also mentioned in the "Some Things Never Change" post, Maidee Parker has always been the one in the middle of Allison and me, shaking her head at all of the idiotic blunders that Al and I found our way into, not knowing if she should check on the clutz who fell flat on her face first or the one whose rolling in a bush screaming from laughing. I think Maidee's role can be perfectly portrayed through one of our favorite pasttimes- tubing- and as Allison and I would be flailing around about to fly off into the murky Reservoir waters, Maidee Parker would be in the center holding one of us down and reaching for the other idiot who was about to drown. On a serious note, Maidee Parker has been and will always be the tiger in my life. She has helped me find strength in times I couldn't imagine to find it and has helped me face life with a fierce passion. She's my fighter, and I am so blessed to have her in my "boxing ring" of life.

TRES. It is said that pictures say 1,000 words. This picture has one- ALLISON. If Maidee Parker helped me face the world and its obstacles with a fierce passion, Allison helped me laugh in the midst of its craziness. I can just look at the picture and hear her either laughing, screaming, singing (probably the infamous Boom Diggy at that), or a mixture of all three. If you have ever heard Allison's laugh, you know what I mean when I say that it is one of her hallmarks and that it could light the darkest room. No matter what kind of day I was having, if Allison started laughing, a smile instantaneously spread across my face. There are not many funny stories that line Memory Lane that do not incorporate Al in some way. In fact, the craziest stories ALL pretty much centralize around her. From dancing to "Pop, Lock, and Drop It" in broad daylight on the beach in front of a rather large condominium to endless calls from Meredith Minschew and L.A. Nails, Allison has always been the "noise/music" in my life. Whether it was her Spanish rendition of the Star Spangled Banner to her beloved Christmas music, Allison is always singing her own little tune. Furthermore, wherever she goes, Allison is definitely heard :), and there's something special about her that makes her song unforgettable. Allison does NOT meet strangers, and if she does, five minutes later they're automatically a "new best friend." Yet again, she spreads her "joyful noise," as she once called it, to someone else. Allison's "joyful noise" is contagious in that she brightens your day and encourages you to brighten others. Her "tune" is one that inspires and one that draws people to it. She has helped me laugh when I thought that was the last thing possible, and she has challenged me multiple times by the "tune" of her life. Although I am no longer able to hear that laugh on a daily basis, when I do, it still brings an automatic smile to my face, and I know that those who get to hear it are blessed by it.

I don't even remember how old we were when we came up with Uno, Dos, and Tres, and I am sure it was a moment of pure idiocy that we had and one of the multiple names we chose to call each other in high school. Yet, it was more than a ridiculous name. It was more than a pose that we did for every picture in high school. It was more than three best friends. It was growing together when "nothing was certain." It was "sticking together shoulder by shoulder." It was facing "all of life that lay ahead." It was "the road that lead home."

I love yall.

Cul-de-sac Hero

Once again, it has been too long since I have posted. If you correctly guessed that I am blogging to procrastinate, you know me all too well. I am currently taking a study break to get away from accounting and cost methods right now, so Mom please don't be reading this! Anyways, this week I have a true inspiration for my post. Yet, I see him differently than the rest of the world. To me, it's the six-year-old little boy that lived next-door that I played with for hours upon hours when I first moved into my new home in Brandon. I can still see the day he found a mischievous lizard in one of our yards, but then then the lizard conveniently found Kyle's ear and latched on to it despite my complete and utter six-year-old dismay. I can still picture the talking parrot he had in his room that echoed us whenever we spoke to it (which was a lot). I can still remember the sweet smile that permeated his entire face. He was one of my first childhood friends. Yet, a year or two later, Kyle and his family moved, and time marched on. Kyle and I would grow up in two different states. I would never meet his junior high friends. I would never know what sports he played or what he thought of his high school prom. He would always be remembered as my childhood friend.

Yet, to the rest of the world, and to my new perspective, Kyle is a hero. I remember in November on a weekend I was home, my mom told me that Kyle had been injured in Afghanistan. I was shocked. This was my six-year-old friend whose biggest worry was the mischievous lizard and trying to convince our parents to let us watch Jungle Book one more time- not an injured Marine who courageously and selflessly protected others even when pain and harm were the aftermath. After this, I found the group on Facebook that tracked his journey and progress, and I checked it on a regular basis to see how he was doing. I was amazed by the faith and compassion of his family, his friends, and all of those who my sweet childhood friend had impacted in his life since the days of Jungle Book and talking parrots. His story is beyond the realm of inspiration. It's love and hope in it's truest form. I have been blessed by his story already, but here is a glimpse of his homecoming and the heart behind him and his family.

http://www.wistv.com/Global/story.asp?S=14081017

I was so moved by this video, but the kicker for me was the ending. Despite his circumstances, Kyle said he would do it all over again for the people he loved. I couldn't help but think of John 15:13 "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." I couldn't help but think that Kyle had beautifully demonstrated the attitude of Christ. For despite His circumstances, Christ looked at us, loved us unconditonally and said, I would do it all again. He laid down his life for his friends. Yet, what does this look like for you and for me and our daily lives? I think this calls us to selflessly serve and to live for others and not ourselves. I think it calls for love and love at its most pure and unconditional form. I think it calls for our lives to be a daily sacrifice for others where we lay aside pride, our selfish desires, our worries, our "five-year-plans," our wishes, our time frames, and lose ourselves in the service of others.

Therefore, to my sweet childhood friend, thank you for your servant heart and for serving our country. Thank you for such an inspirational story and a steadfast example of faith. Thank you for your love for our country and your even bigger love for its people. Ultimately, thank you for laying down part of your life for your friends.

Tis the Season to LIVE

So, I am finally back, and considering I abandoned my poor blog for a while, I felt as if she needed a slight make-over. I am finally starting to understand how to find backgrounds after six months. This is where you clap for me, or let's take it Legally Blonde style and SNAP for me. Thank you. Yet, this new style makes my posts more skinny which also causes them to look as long as the Nile, so if you read these all the way through- you are a champ. I appreciate you.

Back to the point, I have finished my THIRD semester of college, survived finals, started Christmas Break, came home for a whopping two days, and then headed off to the most "magical place on Earth" for a week with the family. It was an absolute blast, and I will definitely add pictures and fun stories from our trip on the next blog. Although this post will deal with Disney World as well, I am going to steer away from Tower of Terror and Splash Mountain in the middle of December (oh yeah, you read that correctly) and share part of the "magic" I learned in the midst of my time with Mickey.

The second night we were in Disney, we were sitting at dinner, when I heard the all too familiar "Happy Birthday to You." Naturally, I looked up from my food to find the celebrated individual and to observe the smiles, laughter, and excitement of the special occasion. My eyes fell upon a baby, and I overheard it was her "first birthday." I was in awe of this precious baby who was at the start of her journey, and I got to experience one of the landmarks. Now, let's fast-forward to the end of my trip. I was boarding the last plane of the night, and as I was searching for my seat, a man dressed from head to toe in his Marine attire was sitting in the row behind me. I smiled at him as I took my seat, and our brief interaction ended. Yet, seconds after I sat down, the pilot announced that we had the honor of carrying the remains of a passing soldier and his escort was riding with us as well. The man behind me was the passing soldier's escort. My heart froze as I grasped the significance of this event. We were carrying an unknown soldier's body to his family. I couldn't help but wonder what his story was, what was his name, where did he live, and could he simply be my age? At the beginning of the week, I had encountered the beginning of a life, and at the end of my week, I encountered the conclusion of a short life.

So where's the magic? The magic is the knowledge that life is short. As I sat on the airplane, I wanted to go find that baby girl and hold her little hand and tell her that life is short, so appreciate every moment. Don't let one minute pass you by. Yet, the even bigger piece of magic, is the GIFT of life. This was the magic I received during my trip to Disney World. For one week, I lived the life. What does this mean? I spent an entire week with the three closest people in my life and the people I love. I made a new friend out of a stranger and shared part of my life with them. I ate two desserts a day without worrying if the jeans would fit the next morning. I acted like a five-year-old and laughed and laughed as I spun around in a tea-cup with my mother. I rode a carousel. I saw fireworks over water. I prayed with my family. I saw soldiers traveling home to their families after they served our country. I did a 195-free-fall ride with my dad. I rode Splash Mountain in the middle of December. I reminisced on the past and wondered about the future. I embraced the gift of life.

Therefore, it is not "tis the season to be jolly," but it is "tis the season to LIVE." Give yourself a Christmas present, and give yourself the gift of life. Live life, and live it abundantly. When I walked into church on Sunday morning, I found it ironic that the sermon was on the "abundant life" after my encounters the previous week. The preacher shared this verse.

"I have come that they may have life and that they may have it more abundantly." John 10:10.

Now, I had a blast with my family in Disney World, and I lived with enthusiasm. Yet, I can live with enthusiam because I have been blessed with the "abundant life." I have been loved and touched by a God who offers this abundance. Therefore, this Christmas season, I hope it is your season to live. If you have the gift of the abundant life, I hope you cherish that this holiday season and share it with others. If you have not opened the gift of the abundant life yet, I hope that it's the first present you tear open this Christmas. It's waiting on you.

-S

"Letter to Me"

So when you read the title, did you start singing Brad Paisley's "Letter to Me" in your head? If so, then you and I are on the same page- congratulations- kidding, but seriously this is my very random inspiration for a blog post. We all have received letters from others and have all written letters to others, but have we written letters to ourselves? If I could send a letter back in time to my six-year-old self, what would I say? What would I want to know before I started the adventure called life? I could ponder on this for days and rewrite the letter a thousand times, but I think this is the nutshell version of what I would say:
To the world's clumsiest girl,
Get ready to fall. Get ready to fall A LOT actually. Don't worry, I am not referring to just embarrassing falls though- although those are endless- be prepared to fall into the most amazing family you could imagine. Get ready to fall into friends that paint your childhood with the most priceless memories. Get ready to fall into a world that you don't understand and that challenges you on a daily basis. Now, I know you're only six, and you still haven't mastered tying your shoes- don't worry that day FINALLY comes- but listen up there's a lot to remember. On your first day of first grade, don't tell your really sweet teacher that you would have rather had Mrs. Beeman for a teacher because you don't know it yet, but this teacher will introduce you to writing and will encourage you to continously do it which you will still love fifteen years later. When you're in third grade and you really like the boy on the playground, don't tell him "you play ball like a girl." He won't really like that too much. In sixth grade, just don't get up to do the mock cheerleading try-out. Your round-off is just not ready for its debut quite yet, and your face becomes acquainted with the gym mat fairly well. When you're thirteen and you think that boy placed the stars in the sky, I promise he didn't and avoid him. It will save you from crashing into a locker door, falling on the floor of your school hall, and papers flying everywhere as your whole school watches. When you're in the 8th grade, don't try to be a germ-freak and kick the toilet flusher with your shoe. You don't need to helplessly watch your shoe swirl around a school toilet and then limp back to the class barefoot and have to explain to your teacher why you are barefoot which she broadcasts to the classroom. When you're fourteen, don't pick up that McDonald's cup. It's not that boy's coke. It's actually a spit-cup, and you feel sick to your stomach for days. When you get your permit, make sure you drive all the way past the median. You don't want to watch your mother scream and see headlights coming straight at you as you pull into oncoming traffic. Miraculously, your parents still let you get your license, but at that first soccer game your Sophomore year, turn your music down. You really won't like the huge dent you dig into your sweet car as you side-swipe a school work-van and not realize it until you see the van wiggle in your rear-view mirror. Don't get hot chocolate at high school soccer games because at one, a friend knocks it out of your hand as you watch it land perfectly on your other friend's scalp. Your junior year, don't complain about going to the concession stands for your friends multiple times in one game. You meet one of the best friends you'll ever have because of this. At your high school graduation, make sure your heels aren't too big because it will fall off as you're leading your class out of the auditorium and roll down the stairs behind you as the entire room burst into laughter as you walk out with one shoe in one hand and diploma in the other. Your freshman year of college, tape your key to your forehead- you'll lose it a million times. Also, hold onto your Mardi Gras date party date a little tighter when he's spinning you around, or you'll find yourself falling flat on your butt on a bar floor in front of everyone. Your Sophomore year, just don't go to your sorority house the night they have Spaghetti at the beginning of October and definitely say heck no to roller skates. You really don't want to talk to a male nurse about female functions do you? Didn't think so. Ok, so I think you're set. The rest I will have to write later, but brace yourself. It's a big world. Get ready to fall into it all.
Wouldn't it be nice if you could send a letter like that to yourself? Prepare yourself for the bumps, the detours, the rainy days, the heartbreaks, the disappoinments, the embarrassment. Make sure you didn't miss the best opportunities of your life, the dances, the smiles, the laughter, the priceless memories. We all know we don't get these letters, but if we could, would we? Yet, if I held this letter in my hands, I think I would crumple it all up. For what would life be if it wasn't for the bumps, the detours, the rainy days, the heartbreaks, the disappoinments, the embarrassment to balance the dances, the smiles, the surprises, the laughter, the priceless memories. Each day of my life has molded me into the person I am today. I wouldn't trade it for anything. So, that's all I would say in my letter.
To the clumsiest girl in the world,
Get ready to fall. You live by standing up after the falls. You live by who catches your falls. You live by perspective when you hit the ground. Yes, get ready, because life is falling.
Sincerely,
Shelby

Will You Dance with Me?

Boys lined one side of the gym. Girls lined the other side. The Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon separated us from one another. We didn't dream of trying to mingle. Oh yes, I am referring to a sixth-grade dance. I was talking to my friends, giggling, in my complete and utter comfort zone when I heard girls whisper and start pointing. Apparently, a boy was bravely making his way across the Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon to the girls' side of the room as everyone else watched in horror. I turned around just in time to see that, oh yes, the only boy who is making his way to the girls' side of the room WOULD BE MY DATE. My twelve-year-old heart began to beat wildly as I wished with every inch of my body that I had Harry Potter's invisibility cloak. WHY was he coming over here? Everyone was watching, and of course, he was heading straight towards me. Don't get me wrong, I loved my date. He was a great friend and usually highly intelligent (I suppose he had a brainfart when he decided to walk across the room), but I certainly did not want to be the only boy and girl talking. When he reached me, I am sure my face was the brightest shade of red on the color wheel, and with absolute horror, he said the words "Do you want to dance?"

"DO I WANT TO DANCE?" Was that even a logical question? I was only twelve years old. The only thing I had ever danced around with before was the vaccuum, a broom, or my friends when we made our 1000th Nsync or Backstreet Boys dance routine. Did I want to dance? SURE, let's dance in the middle of the Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon while NO ONE else is dancing and EVERYONE is watching. Grrreeaatt idea. That'swhat I should have said. Yet, I couldn't say no after he had voyaged this great, long distance to come ask me, so with the world's population of butterflies residing in my stomach, I weakly said "sure." Yep, that's right folks. SHELBY MCKENZIE, the girl who would two years later fall on the floor at the middle of an eighth grade dance (these were much more lively than 6th grade) trying to bust a move, the girl who tried to do a hitch-kick for a cheerleading dance and literally landed flat on her back trying, and the COLLEGE FRESHMAN whose date party date spun her so fast she fell flat on her bottom on a BAR FLOOR, was the FIRST person to break the ice and dance at the FIRST DANCE. You should be real impressed if you haven't caught on yet.

So, as everyone else watched, my date and I made our way to the center of the room. When we got there, I thought the terror was over. I looked up at my date (he was much taller than me unlike the rest of the boys in sixth grade who were shorter than their dates) to see how he intended to start this ceremonial dance, and then these words came,

"Shelby, I DO NOT KNOW how to dance."

YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW TO DANCE? I was enraged. This was an almost as tragic as Nsync splitting up- I wish I could disappear straight through this floor right now-why in the WORLD would you ask me to dance with you and be the only person out here if you have no idea how to dance- ASHTON KUTCHER WHERE ARE YOU, I WILL GLADLY SAY I AM BEING PUNK'D-situation. Once again, these were the thoughts I had running through my head, but once again, I couldn't have this breakdown in front of the entire sixth grade. So I took a deep breath and said, "just put your hands here, and slowly move back and forth." So right there, in the center of the room, my date and I started the first dance, and of course, we were at complete arm's length apart and quite possibly could have just been touching each other with our fingertips. Thankfully, some of my date's friends follwed suit soon after we began, and others started dancing, and at the end of the night, I do believe it was a success. If you are laughing right now, you are welcome for the Lucy moment. I'd love to share my painfully humiliating experiences with you again just to make your day a little brighter.

So, what's my lesson from this day of the life of Lucy? Although most of you think you have never and will never experience the situation I just described, I promise you at some point in your life you will. No, you won't be twelve-years-old, and a boy won't be gliding across the room to ask you to dance. However, when you're in the middle of your comfort zone, God is going to come gliding across the room, and He is going to ask you to dance. You, like me, are going to panic and wonder if he's really serious. You can't be the first one to step away from the comfort zone. You're only "twelve-years-old." (Fill in with your own personal justification) You're not capable of doing what He's asking. What will everyone else think and say? Please just ask someone else. But, He IS going to ask you, and most likely, if you say no, He's going to ask again. Who knows, maybe He's asking you because he knows others are watching, and He knows people will start dancing if you do. He also may be asking you to dance so you can teach other people how to dance. The point is, you have to be willing to step out of your comfort zone and go to the center of the room with God when He asks you to dance.

Secondly, just as my date made his way across the Great Wall of China, the Nile River, and the Grand Canyon to ask me to dance, God voyages across even longer distances to reach you. The segregation of the room did not stop my date from coming to ask me to dance. Likewise, no separation is going to stop God from seeking you. I don't think that registers with us sometimes. God, the creator of Heaven and Earth, is WILLING and DESIRES to voyage past the Great Walls of your heart, of your sins, of your doubts, of your fears, of your resistance to be with you. He voyages past the separation as long as the Nile. He bridges the Grand Canyon through the cross and comes just to meet with you. If you don't feel humbled and honored and completely in awe of that thought, then I don't know what else to say to you. I know I take that for granted all of the time, but when you think about it, it's life-changing (literally).

So, as you go throughout life living in your cozy little comfort zone, be ready for when God comes asking you to dance. I hope you don't miss out because it just might be the best experience of your life. And more importantly than that, live in the peace and love that comes from a God who will travel any distance just to be with you. Just to dance with you.

See-Saws

So, today my blog is a little different than usual. On most days, I have a ridiculous, embarrassing story that takes up the majority of my blog. No fears, I still have a Lucy moment, but today I am being selfish with my blog and just pouring out my thoughts lately. However, before I get there- here's Lucy for you. Friday night, I was at the KA House (if you read Capsized, you're probably wondering why I even go back to the house- I am asking myself the same question as I type this) and I was once again, minding my own business. Then, long story short, a French exchange student comes up to me out of nowhere, tells me my jeans are too dark for my shirt, proceeds to tell me that my name is the name of an extremely hot car, grabs my hands, I have panic attack, and finishes his comedy act with "Don't be shy, leave your friends" and starts pulling me away. I quickly excused myself. That was seriously real life. No exaggerations. One day when I get to those gates, I am going to ask God the significance in my little French friend. Now, there's Lucy- now to my blog.
See-Saws. That's what is on my mind lately. Although these are generally associated with chidhood, I feel like they possess such a deeper representation in our lives. Given, we learned the basic foundation of its lesson when we were younger. One person has to come down before the other person can go up, and at times, you're going to be the one on the bottom.

Throughout our lives, we are constantly on a see-saw. We are as high as the clouds without a worry in the world, and suddenly, we are jerked back down so quickly that sometimes we don't land on our feet. Yet, that is the lesson and challenge in life- making the most out of your see-saw experience. Celebrating the highs and learning how to push yourself back off the ground when you're on the bottom. Just as a see-saw is rarely seen being balanced by two people without moving up and down, our lives do not promise perfect balance. No, they are full of high and lows, and life is what happens in between.

Furthermore, friendship is a see-saw. You should surround yourself with people that are willing to see-saw back down to the ground to lift you back up. That is the true definition of friendship. Likewise, you must do this in return. Friendship is constantly lifting the other person higher than yourself and lifting them back to their feet when they're on the bottom. On the other hand, when you're on the bottoom end of the see-saw, you have to rejoice for the friend who's experiencing the high. You have to love even when you're at your lowest and even when it's not you that's experiencing the tip-top of the "see-saw."

Finally, and what I feel like I am dealing with lately, is letting God control the see-saw called life. He doesn't always explain why you're on the bottom, but He does say, "Hey, hold tight, you'll be back on top soon. Trust me, and I can teach you something while you're down here." He doesn't promise that there will be perfect balance and peace in your life, but He does say "I have a plan for your life. Every high and every low- I'm right there with you- and there's a reason for your ups and downs." He doesn't promise that you'll always be on the top, but he does say "See the people who are on the bottom. They need my love. I came down so that you could go up. Therefore, go and lift them up as well."

So, in life, the see-saw is a continous motion. It is your choice who you put on the see-saw with you, if you make the most of the bottom, and who you let guide you even when there's no balance.

Bicycles and Beaches

So, I just returned from a two-day get-a-way to Rosemary Beach with Maggie and her absolutely adorable family. Although it rained the majority of the time, we did get a few hours in the sun and sand and two days of vacation, so it was perfect. Also, I was introduced to Red Bar which was nothing short of amazing. I will be running for quite a while tomorrow, but it was well worth it.
While I was at Rosemary, I was also reunited with bicycles- this was a Lucy moment for sure. After a rough start and a close call with a four or five-year-old little boy merely trying to enjoy his vacation and bike adventure with his dad, I began to catch on once again. And to be quite honest, I enjoyed it. I wish I had had my camera to document the bike ride because the houses and shops we passed along the way were so cute and all had their own unique, picturesque charm. Anyways, as I was struggling to conquer the bicycle and navigate successfully, I couldn't help but think that I was revisiting part of my childhood (not to mention I probably had not been on a bike since I was ten and thought Lance Bass and I had serious marriage potential). Yes, for that short period of time, I was a kid again. I was riding a bicycle, nervous of falling, but once I caught the hang of it, I was fearless. I couldn't help but think to myself how life would be if we revisited aspects of our childhood and took on that attitude. Like the bike, I was fearless and drove faster to feel the wind against my face and amazed by what I saw along the ride. Or we should be the child who dreams of being a rockstar, an actress, the doctor who cures cancer, or whatever else our heart desires and is not discouraged by the world, others around us, or are grounded by "reality." Or the child who loves quickly and forgives even faster and whose bitter feelings are as easily forgotten as their name on the top of their papers at school. Or the child who takes a completely motionless swing and soars to unimaginable heights by their efforts alone and the child who takes his sole piece of sidewalk chalk and creates a masterpiece even if the rain will wash it away the next day. Or the child who still dances when the music stops and makes his own moves as he or she goes. I think you get what I'm saying. I had an amazing past two days, and I am very glad that I, for two days, was a kid all over again.