By Bob Perks

It was one of those days. The phone never stopped ringing,
people never stopped talking and I never accomplished
anything I planned on doing today.

It was Monday. What would the rest of the week be like?

So I did what any grown up should do when overwhelmed by life.
I ran away.

Not very far I might add. I sometimes head to the local park,
where play ground equipment is made from old hand carved
wood and swings touch the sky. Well, almost. At least my feet did.

Yes, I did get on the swing. It's this magical moment that can
easily be recaptured with a lot more effort at 50 than I can
remember. But I did level it off a few times. My legs were fully
extended and my head back as far as I could put it. I felt for the
moment like this guy was going

over the top.

Awe, the memories!

As I came in for a long, soft landing, I saw a small boy, about six
years old, standing patiently nearby. I wish that could be said for
his mother. She had that "Oh, grow up!" look on her face. I smiled
as I walked past her and said, "Awesome!, Cool!, Wow!, you
ought to try it!"

She just shook her head and said, "Jimmy, hurry up. Just two
minutes. We have to go."

Poor Jimmy looked frustrated. Any kid knows it will take at
least a minute and a half just to get into hyper swing. Well, deep in 
his heart he knew that was two minutes in "adult time". Mom will say
that at least two more times before she really means two minutes.

I walked over to a nearby bench and took out my pen and paper.
The real reason I run away to places like this is so I can write.
I get inspired by watching people. I love to hear the sounds of life. 
I love to watch the interaction of people, plants, and animals. In a
park, life as you know it is suspended temporarily. It's the way life is
 meant to be. We mess it all up by jamming everything together and
sticking a tree, a rose bush and a potted vegetable garden on the
deck. "Oh, the great outdoors!" we trick ourselves into believing.

Here, I forget the phone calls and talking heads. Here I settle down
and listen to what is being said inside and out.

Jimmy's Mom, the one who was in such a hurry, has now settled
down, too. She's caught up in a conversation with another hurried
Mom. They are swapping complaints and gripes. A nearby Dad jumps
in with his moans and groans until there is a symphony of wailing parents.

"There out to be a law!" I said out loud.
"For what?" I hear a young voice ask. It was Jimmy. He has joined
me on the bench.
"Oh, a law that says when you enter the park you are only permitted
to have fun, " I said.  "I do!" said Jimmy. "What are you doing?" he asked
 as he rudely looked over my shoulder.
"Oh, I'm writing. I write about stuff I see and people I meet."
"I write, too!"
"About what?"
"Important stuff. My Grand mama said they are magic words that only
 these crayons can write." He reaches down into a tote bag and
searches through the rubble.

"Look!" he said. "See, they come in this really old box."

He pulls out this wonderful looking wooden box with brass hinges
and a latch for a lock. It's carved and stained like old oak. It's value
has faded through the years from marks, scratches and of course
Jimmy's name scribbled across the top.  But to a young boy it's a
treasure chest.

"Here, this one is my favorite," he says as he proudly holds a bright
blue one high in the air.

"So what's so magical?" I ask.

He asks for a sheet of my tablet paper and says "Only this crayon can
write this important word..."
Then, very slowly he writes "M O M".

"Wow!" I said in approval of his efforts. "Is that it?"

"Wait." he replies as he reaches into the box and pulls out an orange one.

"D A D" he writes next to Mom.

"Excellent!" I shout! "They are important words."

"Here's the best one," he says. "Only this magic crayon can write
this magic word...2 B."

"Wait. I think you may have mixed up your letters on this one,"
 I cautiously try to correct him.

"Nope! That's right!" he said.

"But that's not a word."

"Is too!" he corrects me.

"When my Daddy went away, Grand mama said that she asked God for
him to come back. A family needs 2 B together," he said as he pointed
to his paper.

It stunned me for a moment. But he stood there, blond hair blowing in
the wind and the most incredible blue eyes, waiting for me to approve.

"You are right Jimmy. 2 B together is magic," I said. "But wait. See this pen
is magic, too."

Grabbing a new sheet of paper I wrote in large letters.

"No matter what, you still are a family as long as there is L O V E. And that I
know you have."

"Jimmy, let's go!" Mom shouted.

"Okay, Mom. But can we go to Grand mama's. I got a new important word." He
holds up the paper and says,
"That man says it's family!"

"Yes, it is Jimmy." Mom said quietly as she smiled my way. "That's awesome!,
Cool!, Wow!"

www.IWishYouEnough.com/