"It needs the advent of that dread visitant, Death, to make us understand that we ought to make haste and love WELL those whom we do love, if we would not have them pass away from us forever before we have loved them enough."

Andre Cornelis Bourget

Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all.

by Emily Dickinson

Chapter One

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost...I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter Two

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in this same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in...it's a habit...but,
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

Chapter Four

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter Five

I walk down another street.

You hear so much about memories at this time of year. From Thanksgiving Day on we are bombarded with the idea that we are not only making memories but somehow building upon them.

It is the sites, sounds and smells of the holidays that trigger vivid flashbacks for me. The turkey taking center stage, the cranberries and sweet potatoes all make me think of mom.

The first Christmas bell, carol, or even laughter I hear, readies my mind for a long journey home and the loving sounds only family can provide.

But, oh how a whiff of chocolate, peanut butter cookies or pumpkin pie can set my soul a dancin' down memory lane!

It's easy for me to venture back to things I hold close to my heart. It takes very little to find myself remembering people, places and things which somehow mixed in with the very essence of who I am today.

I swear if they checked my DNA, they'd come up with elements of chocolate chip cookie mixed with genetic traits of dancing when the spirit moved me and smiling when I hear my mom's voice.

Memories are as much a part of who I am as today's choices become a part of all I will become.

But what about this new years eve thing?

Just below the sound of horns tooting and bubbly bubbling, lies the stark reality of the passing of another year. Many struggle with all they wanted to do and didn't. Some struggle with all they think they can never accomplish and still others bask in the glow of success beyond measure.

For the first time in many new year celebrations I have discovered the real truth about time.

"The Echo."

If I take away all the fond, sweet feelings of the past and remove the element of regret from things I wanted to do right or things I did wrong, I am left with the facts.

Everything I do in 2008 will be reflected in how I see my life on new years eve that year.

Thus, my theory of "The Echo."

If you stand in a canyon and shout, "Hello!" "Hello" comes back to you.

You can't yell, "How are you?" and get a reply, "Fine. Thanks for asking!" 2008 is like a canyon. You stand on the edge on new years eve and what you put into it will come back to you. The more you put in, the more will come back. If you love more, you will get more love back. If you fear more, fear will come back.

So, this new years eve when you find yourself reflecting on 2007 remember, it has nothing at all to do with memories.

It's "The Echo."

What will you get back next year?

Be still, you will
destroy yourself
with rage, he said.

But, I must cry
and beat the wall
or I am dead.

***********
G.S.Whitford

Maturity
is a very
magical
thing....

Now you see it,
now you don't.

******
Peter McWilliams

MeBP

I have for years belived in we 'reap what we sow'

Your 'ECHO' explination is awe inspiring................i read this post many times .And believe in a modern time..it would be be a peferfect expleanation [SPELT WRONG I KNOW BUT SPELL CHECK HAS DISERTED ME] to my own views on life...and if you dont mind i would like to use your Theory in my work.

WONDERFUL POST AND THANK YOU

David

Of My Lost Youth
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

poem about fighting a war in his youth -his stolen youth
we may be able to identify with this on many levels
-
entire poem link -
http://quotations.about.com/cs/poeml...Lost_Youth.htm


Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me.
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."


I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,
And catch, in sudden gleams,
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,
And islands that were the Hesperides
Of all my boyish dreams.
And the burden of that old song,
It murmurs and whispers still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the black wharves and the ships,
And the sea-tides tossing free;
And Spanish sailors with bearded lips,
And the beauty and mystery of the ships,
And the magic of the sea.
And the voice of that wayward song

Is singing and saying still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."
I remember the bulwarks by the shore,
And the fort upon the hill;

The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar,
The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er,
And the bugle wild and shrill.
And the music of that old song
Throbs in my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the sea-fight far away,
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains, as they lay
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay
Where they in battle died.

And the sound of that mournful song
Goes through me with a thrill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

ALFFE

Chapter 1-5................is pure brilliance... and i will steal from you as a teaching tool if thats ok.................


David