Twelve can be the most awkward of the ages.
But there’s little in this world that can match the experience of being twelve–simply stumbling out of bed each morning brought with it new and exciting adventures.
And even though I fumbled my way through most of it, I found that the forces of the universe were somehow sympathetic to my plight.
Looking back, I have only recently come to understand that 12 year-olds are somehow benevolently bestowed with the ability to forget life’s miserable and embarrassing failures.
But, and perhaps most importantly, they have also been granted the capacity to store in the heart–for all time–the things that matter most.
And on a summer’s night when I was twelve, I remember riding the Ferris wheel when her hand somehow made its way into mine. And for a moment, just one brief shining moment, everything in life was right.
And that’s the way it should be when you’re twelve.
Ferris wheel at night, Wadena County Fair
Leave a note.