Author's Blog

The words sincere with a depth of understanding, it was the voice of a small child.

"Come with me." A tiny hand wrapped itself around mine. I was led to a secret place. Where there was a child's table and two matching chairs. We both sat down. "Look," whispered the boy, he was clutching something in his tiny hand. I didn't mean to kill the Ant buried in the matchbox.

I forgot to say sorry.... So, I dug it up. The box was empty.

Ant is safe, in a new world, the Creator must have come.

The simplicity of the heartfelt words just poured out, as the matchbox was placed into my hands. I slid the box open. It did appear empty. Then I noticed a dead Ant squashed in one corner. I didn't have the heart to show the youngster.

"You can go now." I started to leave. When suddenly looking worried the boy with saddness in his voice said, "I liked Ant, he used to play running up and down my arm."

This was a nice place.

So many happy hours, so many sad hours, with time for kindness in the clarity of a child's world.

From: img012 - The 'Ant Sampler