I believe I was four, or five years old at the time. My sister was sixteen months younger than me. We were playing outside by a tree in the sideyard of our humble little home in the small town of Theo. The same place we lived when my sister rode The Horse That Almost Reached The Sky. All of a sudden we heard a faint noise coming from somewhere up the road. It sounded a bit like a helicopter, but not exactly. It sounded somewhat like the wings of a thousand hummingbirds, but we knew that wasn’t what it was. All we could do was wondered what could it be.
As the noise came closer, we ran to the front porch where our grandmother was sitting with our aunt. Soon we found out what was making that awful noise. It was a gang of bikers on their motorcycles. There must have been a hundred, or more. As they came closer, the noise got louder, and soon all we could see was dust on the road. We lived on a gravel road, and our house was pretty close to it. We only had a small front yard. Thinking about it now, those motorcycles remind me of a cattle stampede.
After what seemed like forever, the noise started to fade, and soon the dust began to settle. In a few minutes, we began to be able to see the road again. Wow! It was kind of exciting, but scary at the same time. Kind of like watching a wild animal in the open woods. You want to keep watching to see what it does, but at the same time, you want to run for your life.
After a while, we went back to whatever we were playing out in the yard by the tree. We had forgotten about the motorcycles. We were engrossed in our childhood fun, when our aunt called out to us, and said, “Y’all come back to the porch, I hear them cranking up. They’re coming back.”
With that, we ran back to the porch. It wasn’t long until we saw the bikers coming around the curve bringing a cloud of dust with them. It was basically the same scene all over again as far as we could tell. We couldn’t see much farther than the edge of our porch. We couldn’t see the road at all. Then all of a sudden, out of the cloud of dust we saw a scary sight. A lone motorcycle wheel sped past the porch and smacked right into the very tree where we had been playing only a few minutes earlier.
I don’t remember if the guy whose motorcycle lost the wheel was hurt or not, but I do remember telling my kids that story when teaching them about obeying their parents. My grandmother raised us, so she was our parent. God tells us to obey our parents (Ephesians 6:1, Colossians 3:20, Exodus 20:12). Our aunt, our grandmother’s sister, helped her in our raising as well. Plus, we were taught back then to respect our elders.
If we had not listened and gotten away from that tree, we might have gotten hurt. Maybe pretty bad. That was a big wheel, and it smacked that tree pretty hard. I miss being a kid. I miss living in that little house, and I miss my grandmother. I’m looking forward to that day when Jesus comes to restore everything back to the perfect condition he created it in, In The Beginning. My anticipation grows stronger every day.
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