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Sunday, 26 August 2012



Where do you come from?
   I was excited to look at the picture above, which is a recent photo of our house from my childhood. We grew up in a small town in the middle of Saskatchewan, a prairie province. This little town was built around a bible school and everyone there had some relation to the school. It was like Mayberry came to Canada...no one smoked or drank or drove faster than 5 miles an hour...unless you were Terry Neudorf!!  I remember summer after summer there, enjoying playing in our neighborhood. Things were awesome, we didn't just play in our houses or around them, no the whole neighborhood was our playground. We could pass from my house to my friend's house and back again without a thought. I had some really good friends back then and we loved to play. There was no xbox, there were no Nintendos, the closest thing we had was a VIC 20, so our entertainment had to come from our imagination. 
Now the Olympics having just finished and seeing this photo brought back memories of one of our own games. Our own Olympics. My friends and I planned out events for every day of the summer. We picked countries. We set guidelines and rules. We spent much time setting up the venues for the different events...I remember setting the road of our crescent as our track. We had sprints out in front of the house...we had long distance, which was of course an entire lap of the whole crescent. We had bike races, shot-putt and I think we even tried for a high jump. Competing in the events was only half the fun, dreaming up what we were going to do and planning it out was as much part of our games as the actual competition. And then of course like any great sporting event, there was always the dissection of the event, the winner...the loser and all of it's components. There was also the awarding of the medals, like any good Olympics.
    These are rich memories that I carry, because God blessed us. Looking back at this house, brought back a lot of memories and in September we head back one more time. My Dad passed away last December and we're headed out to place him in his final resting place...or where his physical body will be left, because we know that he rests in heaven. I thank God that Dad lived his life so as to win the prize, and he did! What a rich blessing, what great heritage...where do you come from?



1 comment:

Jim said...

Ah, Caronport. No matter where I go, I think some part of me still thinks of it as "home". :)