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Punkin Ridge

Today I swept the old white one room schoolhouse my mom and dad moved onto our property about 15 years ago. Punkin Ridge had been left to deteriorate on one of our places but my folks decided to salvage it. My grandfather Lenard, my dad's dad, used to tell about watching his first motion picture there. Today visitors- mostly past reminiscing students-enjoy coming by and telling about the time when...
The old schoolhouse stands neglected much of the time, but tomorrow a bus load of Pennsylvania 4-Hers are coming to visit our place and the school house is one of the stops. Today I sweep the dust from deep crevices in the rough hard wood floor, some of that dust probably tracked in from my grandad's shoes as a little boy, I think to myself. As I sweep, I catch a glimpse of my 11 year old grandson through the tall glass paned windows. Trystin's job today is to mow the large lawn the surrounds the Punkin Ridge and our family cemetary . My grandparents are buried there. I watch as he stops the mower, gets off and starts to carefully pull weeds from around his great-great grandparent's headstones. A feeling I've not experienced consumes me. Overwhelming gratitude and humbleness. I thank my Lord for this moment and the life I've been blessed to live.

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