Quote:
Originally Posted by Altenweg  Perhaps it's not something you can understand unless you've lived it |
I did. I was a gifted child before such things were acknowledged. I had tons of free time, especially during the summer, when I collected carpenter ants in jars full of dirt (yes, they make tunnels), went barefoot (nothing like walking barefoot in warm puddles after a summer rain), rode my friend's horse, worked in the gardens my parents and I had made, read stacks and stacks of books, read stacks and stacks of comic books, learned how to cook and bake (thanks, Mom!), rode my bike over miles and miles of country roads, climbed trees, built a tree house where I read those stacks of books and comic books, ran through fields of wildflowers and grasses as tall as I was with fat green grasshoppers flying around my head, and did assigned chores around the house. During the school year, I usually was able to finish homework during study hall and free time in class, so after school I was able to do the above activities. During the winter, my brother and I built a ski slope in the back yard, I took walks through a nearby pine forest and watched the deer, I studied tracks in the snow and tried to figure out which animal had made them, and I read all 20 volumes of my
Book of Knowledge (Grolier Co. -- I still have them on a shelf ten feet away from where I am sitting).
The best thing my parents did for me was allow me to be me, to explore on my own, and to remind me to always go the extra mile for myself so I can always entertain myself. Even now, I can sit in a medical waiting room or stand in line at the grocery store and mentally recite poetry, think about Scrooge McDuck, "analyze" people nearby, or carry on scintillating conversations with anyone.
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