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    “No man in the wrong can stand up against a fellow that is in the right and keeps on a-comin’.” Captain Bill McDonald, Texas Ranger.

    My Photo
    Location: Texas

    Good guys wear white hats. And they never run out of bullets.

    Friday, December 16, 2005

    A Little Dream

    It feels good to get away from the city. Confusion and depression drove me away. I’m moving down an old familiar highway. I pull over, get out and walk up to an H-post. As I lean, I’m careful not to snag my shirt on the barbed wire.

    There it is. I came to see this masterpiece. The sun slowly moves behind the earth. Red, yellow, orange, purple, green, pink and gold dance all over the sky. God is so good. I am so small. I’m so happy that He does this just for me.

    Well, I saw this fella walking up way off to the North. I guess we can load up and I can take him to Odessa. Man I’m halfway to Andrews. I can’t believe he made it this far in this heat. “Friend, you are out of your mind. It is too hot to be doing this. Where are you going at this hour.” “ I’m here to see you.”

    “Who are you?” “Don’t you want to know why I’m here first? I’m here to cheer you up. God sent me. He doesn’t like it when your down in the mouth.” “So you’re an angel?” “You aint a prophet.” “Are you some sort of spirit guide?” “You aint Quanah Parker either. I’m a character.” “You’re right about that!” “I come to your dreams to cheer you up.”

    He turns toward the sun. The glare lights up his brim. “Come on, we need to walk.” I turn forward to see where he is looking. The fence and the sunset have been replaced by a small town street. The thick dark branches of pecan trees give me shade. The road itself is quite ugly. Some places it is brick and others it is asphalt. We walk up the steps of that old white craftsman from my past. He opens the door. The house smells like fresh tortillas. Our stuff is laid out ready to pack. The boys drum the floors as they play. My baby girl is sleeping on a blanket on the floor.

    This doesn’t help at all. Why did he bring me here? All this does is make me homesick for simplicity.

    “Do you remember it all?” “What?” “Do you remember how depressed you were then?” “All my memories are good. I don’t remember being depressed.” “Hoss you were tied up in court and up to your neck in debt. You drove a car on its last leg. Your wife hated living here. You just found out Tiger is Autistic. And your job wasn’t working out.” “Yea, your right. So how is this supposed to cheer me up?” “Don’t you remember?” “Remember what?” “Exactly. You don’t remember because it wasn’t important. You made it through and you will make it through again. Your troubles are no match for your mettle. God has delivered you over and over. So get out of bed and go make a difference.”