Jeremiah 6:16

The leaves were moist and quite in the forest tall; and the sound of a saddened whistle from the leaving train joined the whispering wind in a farewell song. The coal smoke gave an aroma of mountain memory. Few things are as hard as taking the path that leads away from home.

Do you remember the old house where the pictures on the walls were not for decor, but were memories and stories to be retold? Once there was no such thing as lunch; dinner was at noon and suppertime was at five. Not only was the meal delicious, it was a daily appointment, and everyone at home was expected to be at the table. “Please pass another biscuit; how was your day?”

Flowers were not planted in fancy pots, but in just about any container that wasn’t needed for anything else; none were store bought.

Animals had names to match their personality. Did you ever play “Twenty-four Geese and Fox” on a homemade board? How about a ball game in the barnyard where the cows provided the bases?

Someone sang Precious Memories, and one of life’s most important questions was in a song: “Are you washed in the soul cleansing blood of the Lamb?” Now everybody take out your songbook and we will sing, “Prayer bells of Heaven, oh how sweetly they ring.”

The old home places are fading away with the sound of the whistling train; and houses sit alone that could tell stories and secrets. Someone pulled the door shut one last time, and someone looked back at the years behind.

What is that they hear in a distant land? It is the sound of a morning train and a choir singing a promise: “I will meet you in the morning, just inside the Eastern Gate. I will meet you in the morning over there.”

I’m rambling but it feels good to remember, and sometimes we must stop along the road and “think for a spell.” This wonderful thing called life is a gift that we share. Don’t forget where you have been; because if you do, then you might forget where you are going.