Brand new peek at HAVENWOOD TALES Beginnings
D.J. Houston, Author
–
There were fourteen of us, the last of Havenwood Township’s Depression-era babies born in a flurry before America’s role in the war was sealed at Pearl Harbor . . .
Out In The Country by Paula Ford
And while none of us were the first young minds fresh off the farm to gather there, nor destined to be the last, the question as to how Miss Greenlee could captivate the attention of that motley gang of six and seven-year-old renegades I found myself surrounded by – much less ever teach us the same subject at the same time – might easily beg for a miracle. But two things were certain . . .
We were loitering over breakfast, contemplating how to dig out, when a clarion cry of “Man alive!” sounded in the yard.
Hello, Hello! And HAPPY 2013!
Down on the floor, hidden from view by a heavy crocheted tablecloth, I could hear Uncle Arthur and Daddy in the parlor, whooping and slapping their thighs, swapping Irish tall tales and war buddy stories — good for a smile, but nothing I hadn’t heard before. And then somewhere off in a corner, Uncle Chester started picking country tunes on his guitar. And that was it: I was mesmerized . . .
How to trim a Christmas tree on the night before Christmas Eve when you’ve never had one, and the stores are closed and there’s no box of decorations stashed anywhere to draw from, is — or so I learned that night — like refurbishing an empty house without money . . .
So off I flew, into what was left of my summer of junk and treasure, to excavate signs of an ancient world — like arrowheads and beads of shell and little, carved hardwood totems.
He reminded me of a sycamore tree with his tall, lean build and sturdy limbs. His skin was white when he rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands in the wintertime. And his hair was as shiny black as a raven’s wing, only curly.
You may be familiar with time-tested rhymes like this one:
When I wasn’t reading, I was doing chalk or pencil drawings and watercolor paintings of the birds and flowers and forests I knew.
Mister Walling was a world of his own. And he was different from anyone anywhere I’ve been since the days of Havenwood.
A peek at 
Havenwood Tales 
Life in Havenwood – The Miracle of Mister Walling
Posted in Inspirations, Wisdom, Mystery, Intrigue, tagged American Literature Treasures, Author D.J. Houston, Inspiring Stories, Life Journey, Miracles, Mystery Novel, Native American Stories, Paranormal Stories, Social Commentary, Spirits & Ghosts, Visionary Fiction on June 17, 2016| 2 Comments »
HAVENWOOD TALES ~ BEGINNINGS
“And as predictable as the cycles of the moon, you felt immensely alive and fortified in his presence, imbued somehow with your own capacity for higher understanding . . .”
–
Mister Walling was a world of his own. And he was different from anyone anywhere I’ve been since the days of Havenwood . . .
Truth be told, I rarely ever saw him. It happened in the course of my living that the journey itself would absorb me more than my quest for truth. And yet Gabriel White Cloud Walling became an indelible part of my life, as necessary as my dreams and the ground I walked on . . .
He never intimated there was anything out of the ordinary about his appearance. And I really enjoyed looking at him.
His condition seemed so natural, it never occurred to me to ask if there might have been strange circumstances. Or an accident at birth. Or any other meat-brained question I already knew wasn’t the answer.
And because he conducted himself as a quiet and unassuming, good-humored creature and I’d heard no one complain or say he was odd, it seemed to me, initially, that folks around Havenwood had accepted him for the miracle he was—until I realized that he was never spoken of.
Miracle of Spirit
Photocanvas by D.J. Houston
The best I could track, Mister Walling had lived deep in the same patch of woods past the north shore of Silver Bear Lake for well over half a century before I even met him.
He didn’t seem to me to be what folks could call a bona fide recluse; he just preferred to keep to himself, choosing his people and causes of his own accord.
Hindsight might prove that his legacy lived in the stories he shared with a privy few of each new generation. And that those whose lives he touched would know in their hearts that a visit with Mister Walling promised them, if just for a moment, a freedom from the stream of time—something sacred, eternal and true.
“But the reason he seemed so special to me as a child was that whenever you arrived to him, he already knew why you were there. Whether you knew why or not . . . ”
Excerpts from HAVENWOOD TALES Beginnings
D.J. Houston, Author
Copyright©2006, 2016 D.J. Houston. All Rights Reserved.
Mystery Novel – Life Journey – Paranormal Intrigue – Visionary Fiction – Inspirations
COMMENTS WELCOME – Scroll Down
SUBSCRIBE to New Posts at “STAY TUNED”
(top of right-side menu)
LIKE THIS ? — Click a STAR Below to let us know 🙂
Rate this:
GO AHEAD, SHARE THIS POST
Read Full Post »