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Tuesday, 24 April 2012

Metaphor

By Michael Gorodezky

I am at a small village inn in China with my grandchildren, Nathan and Emily. We are having dinner while mom and dad go into town for an evening alone. Papa (me) is having wonderful ginger tea while the kids finish up their ice cream.

We walk a very short distance back to our room. The narrow path is muddy, but we all have boots. I am surprised that when walking down a street where the homes have little or no electricity, the street is dark. It is completely black.

As we walk, I hold Nathan’s hand and Emily’s hand. I absolutely cannot see anything. I see nothing at all. Emily says “We could walk into a wall.”

I am thinking exactly the same thing, but say, “Don’t worry, our eyes will adjust.”

I walk carefully trying to stay in the middle of the path. Our eyes do not adjust since there is truly no light. After a few moments of walking blindly, we do come to a small lamp and then return to a lighted path.

I think this happens quite often.


[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. PLEASE read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post

Comments

Thanks for taking us on that short adventure, just imagining walking in China and in the dark, to boot..

I would agree.

Having lived in China for so many years I understand just how you said it was and still is in the villages.

Somewhere along the line I learned that you can see better in the dark if you turn your head and look out of the corner of your eye.
(Your mileage may vary.)_

Nice story -- made me think!

I think that we often go down the road seeing and feeling that all is well. Then for some reason our path is dark and we are lost. We don't know what to do or where to go. Then for some unknown reason, once again there is light. We can see and reason and look ahead. Thanks be to whoever or whatever.

Nice story. Enjoyed it! Am listening to an audio version of "Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven," about two naive 21-year-old American girls traveling in Communist China. It's a memoir by Susan Jane Gilman. Your story reminded me of it.

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