I was lucky to grow up in a house that sat on 1.5 acres of land. The land was pie-shaped—the most significant portion of land in the backyard. There was a gentle slope of green mowed grass that leads down to a small creek. The crick's shore had cattails and milkweed pods begging for you to pull them apart to blow their seeds to the four winds.

If you were quiet enough and lucky enough, you could catch a grass snake. The snakes made terrific playmates for a few hours of your day.

On the edge of the creek grew two ancient weeping willow trees. You could spend the day being a monkey in the trees. The limbs were strong and pliable. So strong you could use the branches to swing from one tree to the next.

The roots of the willow trees ran deep into the earth. They also made natural steps down into the coolness of the small water trickle making its way down the crick. If you stopped long enough, where lucky enough, you might glimpse some tiny fish in the little stream.

Across the little stream was a small footpath. Many children's feet had climbed that path through the years. The path beckoned me. Once at the top of the incline, the course split three ways. To the right, you could explore the cornfields own by the one-armed man with a shotgun. To the left, you could make your way down to the old shack and play 'house.'

My preferred route was straight ahead. It leads deeper into the forest. On a hot summer day, the trees offered shelter and coolness from the hot sun. I would weave my way deeper into the woods, looking for my perfect spot. I was still sheltered from the heat but could see the church steeple with the cross on the top.

It was a spot that brought me peace. The leaves on the trees surrounding me sang a calming song. I could feel the forest protecting me as I sat in my special place.

Once calm and relaxed, my brain could start to think.

Looking to God, I would start asking questions. I didn't always like his answers and told him so. Yet, I left the woods lighter in mind and spirit. Knowing I was not alone in this world. Knowing there was still someone willing to listen and answer my questions. It made me feel loved and protected.