H.C. A boy, a Generation Ago

Dear Next Generation,

Hello again. I hope that success has joined your days as I know it will. I’m excited to share something with you today that makes me feel good while going through my life journey. Maybe it’s something that might make you feel good also.

While the daily struggle is at times, too much a struggle and less enjoyable, I sometimes allow myself a relief. After the work is done of course.

When I get that chance I like to make a connection. Not like dating or anything like that, but a connection with the past. Now you might think this is strange but give me a chance to explain.

To be sure, I am very driven. I work hard. I try to do the right thing. I rarely give time to myself. So when there is an opportunity to connect with the past, I jump at it.  It makes me think less about myself and more of the world and people that came before me.

You may still be asking why. Let me try to illustrate my most recent enjoyable past connection.

I was mulling around an antique store that didn’t have a particularly large selection of decent things. I picked up and put down almost everything they had. I was becoming convinced that I wouldn’t find anything.

As I was about to give up and leave, I picked up a very small, hard bound book. It smelled old. The cover was tuff, like meant for a child. It’s title said it was Elementary English, book one.

I opened the cover and saw handwriting inside. I had seen scribbling in books before so I thought nothing of it except it was a name. Still I wasn’t sure this was what I didn’t know I was looking for.

To explain that confusing statement, I do this strange thing. I pick up old things and wait. I’m waiting to see if I feel a connection with it. Something I would like to know more about. If nothing happens, it goes back on the shelf.

So this little book felt comfortable in my hands but what I didn’t know was that feeling of connection was just inside the pages. I turned to the next page and read the print date. 1900

I thought wow, this kid that scribbled in this book all those years ago, left a little time capsule resting in my hands. I flipped through the pages and instead of learning elementary English, I learned about Hallie Campbell. And it said “His book”. So this was a boy and I could look way back and see his typical boyish behavior.  In the pages, he wrote here and there that showed  his likes for things in the book and that he had a sister or maybe a girlfriend.

His mischief also showed on page one.

It says in cursive, “ If my name you want to find look on page 29”
B787A098-EE1E-4C83-A494-ABF666ABF259

Well yes I did go to page 29 only to be sent to another page until finally he said, this time with a quill, “if my name you do not find close this”.

Yep I was duped by a kid from the 1900’s. Funny right? But I had that connection with the past that I sought. I found myself with a huge smile on my face and went back to the inside cover for the customary place for the price. $2.00

Oh yeah, this one is mine and there was three more. I bought them all. I couldn’t wait to get them home and look through every page, looking for more scribbles from the past.

They didn’t disappoint and I had my connection with past. All the while I was reading through things from people that lived and probably past, I felt good.

Seeing, touching and connecting with things that came before me, takes me away from any current trouble or difficulties. At times I can put myself there in their time just as a smiling observer. For that small time until I consume all that I can from that, I am a time traveling lucky person.  It makes me feel good.

So if you find this strange, that’s okay. But you might try it. See what a very old thing sitting in your hands does to you. Not everything may do anything, but there might be that one ancient thing that stimulates your imagination and drives you to learn more. As you learn more you become more.

Isn’t that what it’s all about?

Thank you for reading H.C.

Until next time; Do try new things for the betterment of you and your generation.

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