Home

Sam found himself walking the same path as he had for months now. The grass was beaten down with the many trips he had made, nearly every day. He could still hear the loud angry shouts faintly in the distance. ‘Home’ they call it. He thought he could remember when it wasn’t always this way, but for a twelve year old something that has gone on for years seems pretty much to be an entire lifetime. This is how it’s always been. Mom yells at dad. Dad hits mom. Sam runs away. Out in the country, with no neighbors for at least five miles, Sam took off to find his favorite creek. The trickling water seemed to wash away memories of unwanted sounds, while the crickets and cicadas distracted him with their music.

But this afternoon was different.

Nearing the crick, Sam ruffled through the last of the tall grass in the field and then froze. There was a young girl playing in the rippling water. At first he had a rush of anger. This is my spot! The only quiet place I have! Who does she think she is? But it quickly passed as he looked on. He saw she was about his age with tumbling golden curls flowing down her back. Her skin was tanned from the sun, and much to her delight she frolicked free of shoes or stockings. If she was aware of his presence, she did not seem at all bothered, but continued in her mirth. Sam remembered his nana’s tales of fairies and briefly wondered if he had found one at last. He quickly shook the thought away. That was a tale for children. He had reason, his daddy said, so he must use it. That’s what men do. Right? Right. Right… He sighed. This caught the girl’s attention.

“Hello, Sam!” she called.

“Do I know you?” Sam asked hesitatingly.

“Well I had hoped you would silly goose!” she laughed.

Her laughter put him immediately at ease. It was as gentle as the twinkling of a wind chime in the spring, but with all the joy and warmth of a fire in winter. He found himself almost to the point of giggling just being the fortunate hearer of such a sound. He quickly ran down to the water’s edge as she deftly and daintily leaped across the stepping stones placed as a little bridge for crossing the creek from one side to another. Sam had placed them there himself, though it had taken him weeks to make it across without slipping and falling in the water. Watching her ease, Sam thought about the fairies again.

She came to the last stone, and Sam, regaining his wits thought it might be time for him to be a gentleman and offered her his hand. She took it with a gleam in her eye that whispered thoughts he never could imagine. He suddenly found himself shy in that stare, and he turned his gaze to the ground. Noting his silence, the little girl began the conversation for them.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“My name is Sam. I thought you knew that,” he replied.

“No, no, silly. That is your name. I mean who are you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sam said, exceedingly puzzled.

“We all have names. We have them because we are persons. But we are not persons because we have names. And we are only persons because we come from a Person.”

Sam could have sworn she was speaking in riddles, but he tried to keep up. “Do you mean my dad?” he asked quietly.

“Not the one you’re thinking of” she smiled, assuring him.

Thinking she might know the answer to her own question, and thus taking the heat off himself, Sam asked her, “Who are you?”

“Tell you what. If you can’t guess by the end of our talk then I promise to tell you.” She said with a grin.

With that she paused in her questioning and Sam was satisfied. They decided to skip stones for a while and Sam found himself talking about nana’s fairies almost accidentally: “Nana always said they were beautiful, but could be tricky. She said to be careful about bridges ‘cause they might lead into Fairyland if you’re not careful and then you would never come back. At least I think that’s how it goes. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.” And then becoming suddenly self-conscious he said, “But they’re not real mind you. I mean it’s just a story. I don’t think anyone has ever seen one anyway. I never have.”

The little girl became very serious on hearing this explanation. “Now Sam,” she said putting her hands on her hips, “just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not real. I thought you were smarter than that.”

Sam flushed and stammered, “What? Surely you don’t believe in fairies?”

“I never said I did. But you have no right to doubt something just because you can’t see it with those two silly eyes. Look, I will prove it to you. Stop right now.” She took the stone he was fiddling with and threw it to the ground. Then she covered his eyes with her small hands. She still seemed very grave and Sam was already feeling sorry for upsetting her so he obeyed. His vision gone, he waited for something to happen. After a minute passed he asked, “Um, is something supposed to happen? Are we taking a trip to fairyland?” The little girl giggled. “No silly! There is something very important happening right now that you cannot see, but it is very much awake and powerful. What is it?” Sam tried hard to quiet his thoughts down. He heard the crickets chirping. He could hear the water flowing. He could feel the soft muddy bank between his toes. And he could feel something else too… The wind. It tussled with his hair and caressed his cheek. It whispered secret sighs and hummed a playful melody. Something he had never seen before, but had always known its presence. She took her hands away.

“It’s the wind” he said.

“And how do you know it’s real?” she asked.

Sam paused and then said, “I suppose I see or hear what it touches. And I know what it touches is real.” The little girl’s face lit up. Her happiness reminded Sam of a rose blooming in May. Once seeing it, he wished it would never fade.

The sun was high in the sky now and even in the shade it was becoming warm. They found a comfortable spot for wading in the cool water. Splashing each other a couple times, the girl asked him another question, “Where are you going?”

“Well, nowhere,” he said. She seemed to have the knack for asking the strangest things, he thought. No wonder he never saw her when school was in session. They would have kicked her out as a disturber of the peace.

“Everyone is going somewhere” she said.

“Not me,” said Sam.

“You’re headed somewhere right now though I’m not sure you will like it when you get there” she said seriously again.

“Home? If you are asking about going home then no, I don’t think I want to go back,” said Sam.

“That wasn’t what I was talking about. But now that you mention it, do you think you will live there forever?” she asked.

He thought and then said, “Well, I suppose not. I guess I will grow up too one day. Then I will leave.” He paused and asked, “Where is your home?”

“Tell you what,” she said, “If you don’t guess by the end of our talk, I will tell you. But I’m not quite done yet.” With that they returned to splashing each other until they were both thoroughly soaked, if not entirely cooled down. Tired from their fun, they sloshed back to the water’s edge and collapsed. They were content with finding shapes in the clouds when Sam found himself being asked another question, “How will you get there?”

“Get where?” he asked.

“Home,” she said.

Sam looked behind him at the path he had taken from his house in what seemed ages ago. “My own two feet, I suppose. That’s how I got here”.

“Oh, they can’t take you there,” she said.

Sam was taken aback and then remembered her previous question. Home. Where was his home?

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Home is where the heart is’?” she continued.

Sam had. He hated it when he had heard a teacher say it at school during Christmas time. It always conveyed artificial images of happy families eating big dinners together wearing stupid, matching, knitted sweaters. He hated it because he didn’t have it and he figured he never would. But when this mysterious girl said it…he didn’t feel hatred or jealousy. He felt…longing. He felt an aching, --a wishing, --a dreaming, --a yearning tugging at his breast. He wanted a home where he felt loved, but he had no idea how to get there. He choked back a tear and cleared his throat a couple times. After a minute he asked, “How do you get to your home?”

She said, “I was hoping you would ask” and began to stand up. As she stood up, it seemed as if all the clouds in the sky had suddenly disappeared. Rays of sunshine began to pour down upon her and she took on a golden glow which radiated intense heat and reflected radiant white beams. Sam gasped as she began to grow from a young girl into a beautiful, full-grown woman. Her body became almost transparent in the presence of so much light. In a state of awe, he heard her speak melodiously:

“You asked me who I am. You asked me where I am going. You asked me how I would get there. These I shall answer you. Remember them well, for they ought to be your answers too. I am a child of God. I am going to God, in what you call heaven. I will get there by, through, and in God, in what you call Love.” As she said this last word Sam noticed her tracing an image in the earth with her foot. Then, with a last flashing light and a burst of warm wind…he saw her no more.

Sam awoke to a gentle breeze. The sun was beginning to set over the fields. He started and looked around for the girl. She was nowhere in sight. He jumped up and felt his face and chest. He could feel his face puffed from recent tears and dust had blown over his clothes. He ran down to where he had last saw the beautiful creature and there---traced in the sand he saw---a Cross. He found himself getting goose bumps and then suddenly a strong rush of wind swept by and he found himself sprinkled with water from the creek. Beginning slowly, and then coming on strongly and warmly, Sam found himself bursting with laughter. His whole body and soul were laughing and he found himself leaping and dancing. He had a very sure feeling, for the first time in his life, that he had a home and he belonged there.