Trying To Walk In Beauty

As a child, I rode in the back of a wagon a couple of times and I remember exactly where I sat and why. I remember sitting way at the back of the wagon. My bare feet were dangling off the edge of the wagon as we drove along. They were being tickled by the blades of bushes that grew in the middle of the trail that we were driving along on. In those moments, I remember being so happy. I was at peace. I was a mischievous, giggly lil’ girl, sitting too close to the edge of the wagon as the sun hung high in the sky, shining down upon me. Those were some of my best days, one could call it walking in beauty.