One summer morning of my youth, I heard a commotion in the back of my neighbor’s house. It was Hal the Hippy loading all of his belongings into the back of a VW van.
I opened my bedroom window and shouted: “Where are you going, Hal?”
“To California,” he said. “It’s time for me to follow my dreams.”
“I wish I could go with you,” I shouted, thinking about all the cool adventures we might have.
He gave me a sad face, and I knew exactly why.
It wasn’t my time yet.
I opened my bedroom window and shouted: “Where are you going, Hal?”
“To California,” he said. “It’s time for me to follow my dreams.”
“I wish I could go with you,” I shouted, thinking about all the cool adventures we might have.
He gave me a sad face, and I knew exactly why.
It wasn’t my time yet.
