THE WHEELS OF TIME

When as a child filled with the wonder of a world so beautiful and mysterious, where I romped and played to my hearts content.No worries or cares in my childishness, just glorious days to drink in all of the Creator’s handiwork and skip and play and seek all His treasures. Even then, I was beguiled and pondered the idea of a God who was watching over me in my daily adventures. Time was so slow, and I believe it was so I could take in all of His miracles because everything was so new and I had so much to learn. With each passing day I stored in my being the beauty of the earth, the joys of family, friends and neighbours, also the sorrows that life can bring. I was a good listener even then, and my ears and eyes picked up many different nuances in the words and actions of my playmates and my elders. It was as if I could see into their hearts and I could feel what they felt. At Church on Sunday, though I couldn’t see above the front of the pew, and stood on the kneeler to see, I knew something special was happening even though all was in Latin. There was a glorious mystery in it all and some times I seemed to float out of the Church, my feet not touching the ground. I was too young to understand it, but I felt it just the same. When as a teenager and filled with curiosity and doubt and insecurity I squirmed and sweat when with my peers we shared activities and school projects, I began to notice that the days were getting shorter and time along with them. Summer holidays seemed at least a month shorter and it sometimes made me fretful, as if I had better hurry or I’d miss the boat But it didn’t end there. Now as a mother, whose children have nearly all fled the coup, time is like quick silver, passing through my fingers at an alarming rate and leaving me breathless and wondering,” where did the years go, what have I accomplished, am I ready for what lies ahead”. Life has taken it’s toll and I guess time is shorter now because we’ve pretty much seen it all. It’s all stored in our hearts and minds, the one problem being that our memories have become porous and the scenes and dreams of the past are slipping out of our grasp. This too is normal, because like Jesus who was stripped of everything before He died, we too must go the same route to one day be resurrected with Him for all eternity. So be it.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Jan. 04, 2007