The End of The World
About 20 years ago I was driving a little yellow 70 VW Bug. I remember exactly which street I was puttin' along on when my youngest leaned forward from the back seat and asked,
"Mommy, is there an end to the world?"
My eldest daughter remembers this question and the moment in time as clearly as I do as she is ten years older and was sitting in the front seat. (She was born of my short first marriage. The two younger sister are spawn of the hubby.)
I can't forget the breath catching in my throat and my heart following a close second. This was a season of my life during which I was not believing - in much of anything. A quick brain storm whirled through my head. Then, even faster, I formulated a carefully worded response that I hoped wouldn't freak her little mind out.
The eyes of front seat daughter looked at me with brows up and just a quirk of a smile on one side of her mouth. She was hanging on this one like white on rice and would slice and dice me if she thought I was stalling or evading.
I double clutched that little bug and slowed down for the left turn about 3 blocks from our house. There was no other traffic, so I sat at the intersection and turned around to face the inquisitive one.
"Well," said I in the best wise mommy voice I had available, "there are some people that believe that the earth will end in fire. Others disagree and say that someday we will return to an ice-age and people will not be able to live in the cold. Grandma W believes in God and that Jesus will come and destroy the earth and take all His people to Heaven."
If only someone else had been along with a camera to snap that priceless expression on two faces: mine and the eldest daughter. Because the little one just shook her head and rolled those eyes and with a certain amount of disgust declared,
"Not that mommy............................... don't you ever just drive past the last house, and thats the end of the world?"
"Mommy, is there an end to the world?"
My eldest daughter remembers this question and the moment in time as clearly as I do as she is ten years older and was sitting in the front seat. (She was born of my short first marriage. The two younger sister are spawn of the hubby.)
I can't forget the breath catching in my throat and my heart following a close second. This was a season of my life during which I was not believing - in much of anything. A quick brain storm whirled through my head. Then, even faster, I formulated a carefully worded response that I hoped wouldn't freak her little mind out.
The eyes of front seat daughter looked at me with brows up and just a quirk of a smile on one side of her mouth. She was hanging on this one like white on rice and would slice and dice me if she thought I was stalling or evading.
I double clutched that little bug and slowed down for the left turn about 3 blocks from our house. There was no other traffic, so I sat at the intersection and turned around to face the inquisitive one.
"Well," said I in the best wise mommy voice I had available, "there are some people that believe that the earth will end in fire. Others disagree and say that someday we will return to an ice-age and people will not be able to live in the cold. Grandma W believes in God and that Jesus will come and destroy the earth and take all His people to Heaven."
If only someone else had been along with a camera to snap that priceless expression on two faces: mine and the eldest daughter. Because the little one just shook her head and rolled those eyes and with a certain amount of disgust declared,
"Not that mommy............................... don't you ever just drive past the last house, and thats the end of the world?"
Comments
bubble wrap for ya. Have fun.
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Ian
IAN and thanks for the reminder of the lovely sidewalk ends.
I will say only that both were appreciated and needed at this moment in time
The composure, then the let down of that wasn't what I was looking for. . .LOL
Been there done that!
That story was priceless! Everything is open to interpretation, isn't it?
I thought "spawn of the hubby" was an interesting choice :-)
hehehe, still makes me giggle. As does your post :).