Quiet

Those that come from large chaotic families might understand the need for solitude. Today was such a day. I was reminded of long ago Saturdays in my parents’ house. Every so often I would want to go where no one could find me. Just to be alone. In a house of 14 people, there was always noise and chaos and something that needed done. But there was a walk-in closet on the second floor; it housed the furnace, the wrapping supplies, some luggage, some bedding, and the clothes of whoever was using the room at the time. I would take a book or two and climb behind the clothes. The excess bedding made quite a comfortable seat and I would travel to what ever world I wanted. As teenager I lingered over the world of Anne of Green Gables, Emily of New Moon, and others. I escaped my chaotic world as I read of romances in England, the horrors of Hitler and the Holocaust, daring Mormon Pioneers, brave soldiers of the Revolutionary and Civil wars, and their even braver mothers and wives they left at home to worry and pray while they fought.

Today, I did nothing important, nothing but read. I read nothing important; nothing to “expand my mind”; just simple tales. Some I have even read before. And yet, I am a little embarrassed to say, it has been one of my favorite days.