When I was Fifteen

When I Was Fifteen

      Today as I brushed the pony we got our grandchildren for Christmas, my mind drifted back to another time, a time when I was young and my hand stroked the mane of a much bigger horse. For a moment I forgot I wasn't fifteen. Wasn't I, just yesterday? I am still filled with hopes and dreams like I was then...they have changed a little. I still love horses. I still see out of the same eyes, one blue and one brown. But everything looks different in light of the experiences I've had through the years. Why does the sky look bluer than it did before, and why do I notice how beautiful the hills look as they kiss the sunset goodnight? I don't remember noticing them so much...when I was fifteen.

      I walk on the same feet I did back then but now they don't run as fast, and they are more careful about where they go. They like to wear shoes now instead of being bare; they have become more tender over the years. I still wear blue jeans, but the ones I have on now reside at my waist and not my hips, for reasons I do not have to explain to other women over fifty. A smile bubbled up from somewhere deep within the day bell-bottoms returned to the stores, and they reminded me of the days when my figure came in size 3...when I was fifteen.

      Oh, how much that girl has changed, and how much she is still the same. Still active inside, she is the part of me that remains young; dreaming, dancing and singing. It is hard to remember what she looks like as I search for her in the mirror, but the twinkle in my brown eye convinces me that she is still there.

      At times I need her advice. I need her to remind me now-and-again to take chances, to be daring. It is because of her that I am a poet. It was in her that God began a rhyme and made my life into a poem for Him. She did not know at the time that He had a plan for her life, and through the years His plan would mold her into me.

      She was rebellious - and I? Not so much now. Yet even then her heart ached for a closer walk with Him, to know Him more; to believe that He was real. It is the same seeking heart that beats these many years later. It was her who received His promises and me who saw them fulfilled. The questions she asked Him were answered in the valleys and on the hilltops of a lifetime stretched out from her to me. The answers were loud and clear - He loved her, He was faithful, and He was real.

Oh, if I had only known it then...when I was fifteen!

A touch of yesterday,
Brushed against my hand.

Not knowing what to say,

I tried to understand.

It did not come in sadness,

But sweetly to remind.

That everywhere I looked,

God's presence there I'd find.