It feels different being back here now. As if I'd been here only for the first time, every tree a landmark for freedom. The rolling hills that might scatter at the sound of God's thunderous voice, and His children would rejoice instead of pondering how such a mystery happened scientifically.
Like the earth moves a little slower, but those that walk it, walk just a little wiser than the wise might think, for it's the foolish things that confound the wise. Like her people walk their days with stamps on their foreheads, and no one needs to ponder at the meaning, because they all have the same ones.
Am I generalizing a people, and overlooking a serious and fatal disease called humanity? Yes, and maybe. But the truth is, Greenpond, South Carolina is a special place. A place too small to be called a town, where people know each and the other, help each other, and love each other. A place my grandfather helped transition into a place called Love. A place that calls me child.
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