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One day I planted a bunch of small, plastic dinosaurs in the shallow, pale dirt. The two neighbor boys, George and Bo, came over regularly to dig them up and rebury them.
The boys were due to move on a Sunday, so when they came over to dig on their last Friday in the neighborhood, I was particularly touched. Almost immediately Bo unearthed a cow. (All the dinosaurs had disappeared and the only small plastic toys I could find to replace them were farm animals.) He ran home to show his mom. George, however, stayed hunched over, dirt flying out behind him. He had come upon a large solid object and was determined to unearth it. Grunting, he hollowed out the space around it until he had enough leverage to dislodge what appeared to be a very large dirt clod. Triumphant, he looked up at me and announced, “It’s a fossil!!”
I followed George as he dashed off to show his mom this treasure; I wanted to be on hand to make sure he did not take object into the house his mother was packing up. But it was his brother who greeted us at the screened door. “Look,” George gloated, “I found a fossil.” His brother’s response was immediate, “No you didn’t! That’s a meteorite!”
For years these boys have regularly reminded me how incredible the world in which we live really is. Time and again they have shown me that we are all surrounded by ancient wonders and heavenly visitors. I am grateful. I will miss them - particularly whenever I go to that sacred spot in the back yard.