When You Were Nine

by Lianne Vernell, age 13, from the US

It was my favorite hiding spot. As a child I would run away from camp grounds and hide behind the large pine tree. I would sit in the hole in the ground made from all the times I'd hid my body in the dark soiled surface. There was no better scene than the fluffy white clouds mixed with the green valley mountains. I'd lay my brown silky hair on the green pine needles that had fallen from the thick tree branches. I would watch the flowing river swiftly float by. Although it was only several feet away it seemed as though it was miles.

But the greatest joy of my hiding place was being away from camp. Without my hiding place relaxing would have been very difficult. It was a wonderful feeling to have a place of my own without anyone knowing about it. But, I'm sure by now another nine year old has found it and is resting their head on the ground and watching the river flow by. I can imagine their ivory smooth skin glistening with the suns rays, and listing to the soft and gentle music rise through the air.

But soon, the summer would begin to disappear and the children's bright smiles would turn into gloomy frowns. The air would not feel as gentle and the suns rays would not be as warm. But the one thing the children would know when leaving the camp is that the hiding spot would still be there. Waiting for another summer to float by. Waiting to hear nine year old giggles. Waiting for a small head to fit its hole. Waiting for a child to listen to its music. Waiting for bright eyes to gaze at the green valley mountains and the rustling blue river. Waiting for a child so they can give all they have and the children waiting to receive all the good the hiding spot had to give. A glimmer of the sun, a soft place to lay, and sweet music to fill their ears.

If they could tell the hiding place one thing it would be, "Thank you." But what the children don't realize is that the hiding place is always listening and answers in mysterious ways. Ways children don't understand, but certainly appreciate. If it's by bringing a brighter and warmer day, or bringing a tint of rain to make the ground softer to lay on. The hiding place knows what you enjoy and appreciate, only if you talk to it will it grant you your requests. Never once will the hiding place forget you. For it knows all who have laid in its branches and all who have carved their name in its tree trunk. And yet it still waits for your return to come back next summer. And when you don't, the hiding place knows you have turned the double digit, ten, and can no longer visit the camp. Even if you cannot visit the hiding place, it will visit you. In your dreams, in your thoughts, and in your lives. Although you may not recognize it at first you can still have the content of knowing it's there. And the hiding place will have the content of being there with you. Guarding you, protecting you, and caring for you. Just like it was when you were nine.