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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
3
Thus
I
lay,
and
presently
I
began
to
hunger
and
thirst.
Desire
rose
within
me:
the
indescribable
longing
of
the
convalescent
for
the
food
of
recovery.
So
I
lay,
questioning
wearily
what
it
was
that
I
required.
One
morning
I
wakened
with
a
strange,
new
joy
in
my
soul.
It
came
to
me
at
that
moment
with
indescribable
poignancy,
the
thought
of
walking
barefoot
in
cool,
fresh
plow
furrows
as
I
had
once
done
when
a
boy.
So
vividly
the
memory
came
to
me--the
high
airy
world
as
it
was
at
that
moment,
and
the
boy
I
was
walking
free
in
the
furrows--that
the
weak
tears
filled
my
eyes,
the
first
I
had
shed
in
many
years.
Then
I
thought
of
sitting
in
quiet
thickets
in
old
fence
corners,
the
wood
behind
me
rising
still,
cool,
mysterious,
and
the
fields
in
front
stretching
away
in
illimitable
pleasantness.
I
thought
of
the
good
smell
of
cows
at
milking--you
do
not
know,
if
you
do
not
know!--I
thought
of
the
sights
and
sounds,
the
heat
and
sweat
of
the
hay
fields.
I
thought
of
a
certain
brook
I
knew
when
a
boy
that
flowed
among
alders
and
wild
parsnips,
where
I
waded
with
a
three-foot
rod
for
trout.
I
thought
of
all
these
things
as
a
man
thinks
of
his
first
love.
Oh,
I
craved
the
soil.
I
hungered
and
thirsted
for
the
earth.
I
was
greedy
for
growing
things.
And
thus,
eight
years
ago,
I
came
here
like
one
sore-wounded
creeping
from
the
field
of
battle.
I
remember
walking
in
the
sunshine,
weak
yet,
but
curiously
satisfied.
I
that
was
dead
lived
again.
It
came
to
me
then
with
a
curious
certainty,
not
since
so
assuring,
that
I
understood
the
chief
marvel
of
nature
hidden
within
the
Story
of
the
Resurrection,
the
marvel
of
plant
and
seed,
father
and
son,
the
wonder
of
the
seasons,
the
miracle
of
life.
I,
too,
had
died:
I
had
lain
long
in
darkness,
and
now
I
had
risen
again
upon
the
sweet
earth.
And
I
possessed
beyond
others
a
knowledge
of
a
former
existence,
which
I
knew,
even
then,
I
could
never
return
to.
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