The Long Way Home

The Long Way Home

(420 words)

You spent the day at the park with your little sister, Anna. After lunch you decided you were finished playing so the two of you decided to walk home. Upon coming to a familiar fork in the road, Anna went the shorter route, but you decided to take the long way home.

The road bent and twisted through the woods and soon emerged next to a clearing. The sun warmed your face as a cool breath of air blew wisps of your hair. You noticed how beautiful the day was, and you were thankful to be outside.

Further down the trail, the path turned along a ridge revealing a seemingly endless expanse, rimmed with mountains that reached up into the sky with white tips. Stunning shadows and alternating patterns of light and dark painted the horizon. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, appreciative of the majesty of the sight. And you were thankful to be feeling the grandeur of it all.

You followed the path through a field of grain, which danced and swayed, and formed waves and swells in the breeze. You wondered about all the bread that could be made from the grain. And you thought about the sandwich you had for lunch, and about all the meals you got to enjoy. And you felt very thankful that you could have food whenever you wanted.

You climbed up a small hill and rolled down the other side, laughing all the while. You ran back up and did it again. Then you realized how lucky you were to be able to run around and play and have fun. And you were thankful for your youth and your health.

By the time you arrived home, Anna was already there. The rest of the afternoon was filled with playing and laughter. Mommy made your favorite supper and then Daddy read you and Anna a bedtime story about Pilgrims and Indians, and about learning to accept people for who they are. You loved spending time with Mommy and Daddy, and you were thankful for having a loving and safe home.

By bedtime, you were exhausted. You crawled under your covers and Mommy tucked you in. “Tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck,” she always said when she tightened the blanket around your body. She turned off the lights and tiptoed out of the room. Warmth and comfort and happiness permeated your being. You pulled your pillow close and snuggled up into it. And you think you heard yourself say, out loud, “Thank you.”