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Journey For Inner Strength

Cynthia M. Bugert

Copyright 2013 by Cynthia Bugert

Smashwords Edition

Chapter 1: It Begins

What a glorious day! It was the morning I planted the maple tree. I was an excited young girl who wanted her own place to dream. For months, I had been asking mom if I could transfer one of the baby trees from the side yard to the back. Finally, the day came when she said it would be alright. I was so excited I could hardly breathe. She offered to help, but I had been planning this for weeks and was determined to do the job myself. It took quite a while and every time I looked toward the back door, there was mom with a crooked little smile on her face. I think she thought I would soon be begging for help, but my mind was set, and there was no way that was going to happen! I managed the whole thing completely by myself and when I had finished with the planting, I stood back to admire my work. I noticed mom had walked away from the door, so I walked over and grabbed a crisp clean towel from the clothes line, folded it haphazardly, and placed it at the edge of the tiny trunk. When I lay back onto it with my hands clasped behind my head, the tree suddenly became a big beautiful red maple. The leaves were magnificent to behold as they blew gently in the breeze.

I'm a dreamer at heart. All through my life, I can remember sitting outside under the maple tree thinking about things in this world. Sometimes, I would dream about my future; other times, things far less complicated would invade my mind. I don't know why I dream so much, but I do know that it's often hard to distinguish a dream from reality. And sometimes, I prefer the dream.

One bright sunny day, I took my place in the back yard under that big tree and began looking at the clouds. As most of us do at one time or another, I sat there trying to decide what a particular cloud looked like. As it moved across the sky, it continued to change. This metamorphosis caused my mind to start off on a new journey. Instantly, I found myself running through the sky, leaping from one amazing cotton puff to another. Each one changed as I jumped to it. I was riding on elephants and soaring on eagles. When I tired of jumping, I sat on a large golden throne and looked out over the world. It wasn't long before the throne became nothing but a big soft pillow. As I looked over the world, I rolled onto my stomach and began to realize how small I really was. I watched as people walked the streets of the big city. They all seemed to be in such a hurry. I wondered why they did not slow down, look up, and join me in the clouds. What could be so important? What was it that kept people from taking the time to really see the amazing world around them?

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