Monday, February 28, 2011

Playing God with My Ant Friends

January 27, 2000

Dear Kim,

As I sit here in my little ant infested dormitory, I will tell you the same thing I told my best friend last night.

The longer I travel down the path of my life, the more I am torn in two directions. Half of me wants to run home to my childhood—with the security of things such as pudding with Nilla Wafers and bananas, Saturday morning cartoons, Cabbage Patch Kids, church with the whole family, or Sundaes on Saturday evenings. The other half of me wants to run into the frightening and exciting unknown—the harsh city, the solace of countryside, or the outskirts of town in the “hick-est” little nowhere ever. While I sometimes think I must choose, rationally I know that my life will probably be a combination of both. One of the most beautiful things I can think of is taking the joys of yesterday into tomorrow. I thank God that you are one of those joys: all the happiness of my life embodied in memories and the basic hope of tomorrow. I thank God even more that I have you, forever, no farther away than the local phone, computer, or post office. I too am always here for you.

Sometimes in the quiet of my college experience, I wonder just how all that is happening to me right now fits into the grand scheme of my life. I wonder if sometimes God looks at me like I look at these ants, screaming, “What are you doing? Why won’t you do what I say?” I, like my ants, have followed the crowd at times, chasing after some old sugary candy. If I keep this up, surely I will be lead into destruction, the same way my ants are going to get a whooping when I come back from work and classes.

Playing God with My Ant Friends,
Amie Sommars

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