A Favorite Place


A Favorite Place

A student asked me a simple question that brought a warm smile to my face. Through her toothless grin pushing her blonde curls from her eyes she simply asked, "Where was your favorite place to visit when you were little?

Some people might respond Cedar Point, the beach, or even Disney World.  My favorite childhood place to visit is not found in a travel guide.  It is located among rural rolling green hills and never to be referenced on travelocity.com.

I closed my eyes and smiled recalling a long forgotten warm childhood memory.  The images and sounds of my favorite place rushed back like the warm summer wind blowing through the car windows as my Dad drove down the road.  Hanging over the front seat talking nonstop to my folks, the cityscape on a great lake plateau would disappear out the back window as the car weaved and rolled along towards the rural hills of western Pennsylvania.  Finally, a red barn and a white farmhouse appeared in the most picturesque of settings.

The farm belonged to my Aunt Sarah and Uncle Earl.  A simple place filled with the childhood wonder of animals and big machines.  Especially, one very scary bull and one friendly furry collie.  The old dog followed us around as if it was herding us and keeping us safe.  I loved that dog and still today the thought of that old dog makes me smile.

Uncle Earl had a soft smile as he worked.  He seemed so at peace tending to laborious duties of farming.  I enjoyed sitting quietly as he told a story from his life.  Few people tell a yarn with the richness of Uncle Earl. His voice is etched forever like a favorite song in the iPod of my brain.

Aunt Sarah made you feel so welcomed.  She has a way of talking to you as if you are the most important person in the world. I have visited many homes and only a few places have made me feel as warm and welcomed as when I visited Aunt Sarah.  She is a genuinely accepting and caring person.

Almost fifty summers have come and gone since I first visited Uncle Earl and Sarah's home.  The wholeness of unpasteurized milk still coats my taste buds, my ears still resonate with the intonation from a home spun Uncle Earl story, and I still feel the softness of petting that old collie.  More importantly, my heart still feels the warmth of being welcomed in Aunt Sarah's home, which was my favorite childhood place to visit.  

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