sung at God's Acre, the tapping of maple syrup along the bordering trees of St. Mark's Church, the beauty of autumn leaves along Oenoke Ridge, the forsythia bushes, the magnolia trees, all this beauty remains etched in my mind like a finer watercolor, ageless and untouched by time.

I danced for Walter Schalk, my brother played Little League and more times than I can count, I've brought my own children back to see where I came from and what a good life can be.

They've ridden in the Memorial Day parade with their grandfather, they've walked past the small shops on Elm Street, they've seen hot air balloons and flown mechanical airplanes in the green fields of Waveny and over and over again they've talked of the beauty and harmony of it all.

But the years have indeed passed. My father is gone now and my mother has moved away and now, finally, the ties to your tiny village have been ultimately broken. If I ever come back again, it will be as a visitor, because the cold, windy streets of Chicago have become my home.

But I want to thank you, New Canaan, as your child and friend, for the beauty that surrounded me once when I needed strength and comfort so much. Your beauty is undying, your gentler way of life stirs hope in my heart and the memories still flicker of a childhood no one can take away.

I am grateful because you surrounded me with it. I am strong because I reflect you.

You are beauty, you are strength, you are comfort. And I am one of your children.

B. Hopkins - Zion, Illinois
Reprinted from: New Canaan Advertiser