When I was a very young girl, my Aunt Theona lived at Creighton Hollow, –as the name implies, a valley between high hills. The hill began behind her home and climbed steeply right up to the sky.
Once a couple of older girls in the neighborhood were planning to hike to the top of the hill and they invited me to go with them. I eagerly asked my aunt for permission to go with them. She said, “No.” I was so disappointed. I tried to let her know how much I wanted to make the climb to the top of that hill. “I want to touch the sky,” I told her. “If I get to the top of the hill, I can touch the sky.”
My aunt and the girls told me that this was impossible, that no matter how high the hill is, you can never touch the sky.
I didn’t believe them. I could see how the blue of the sky touched the top of the hill.
But as time passed, I understood that what they told me is true. I can never climb high enough to touch the sky.
I never did get to hike up that hill and I still wish I could have, but I’ve hiked up other hills that were surely of equal interest to me but for other reasons than trying to touch the sky.
Now when I’m traveling in a car and the road ahead stretches ahead to climb a steep hill where the sky meets the hill, I think of that time long ago when I knew that if I could just get there, I could touch the sky!