Sleeping in the Golden Hills
Every afternoon that we could spare, the four of us would climb the hill behind the school. During the summer months, we would spend as much time together as we could. It was our last year together before everything was destined to change, and somehow we had that premonition that we should be together as much as possible, before those changes took place.
Grabbing an extra lunch each Wednesday, we would climb up the cement walkway and make our way to the top of the running hill. Our feet felt like lead after the hike, but the top of the hill was only our halfway point. Standing there for a moment, we would rest beneath the shade of a few almond trees. Never in our three years at PARK middle school, were those things ever ripe, and so we would eat the things while they were still juicy. They made a nice snack, and wet our tongues so that we could make our beloved trek through the tall grass.
The four of us would make a sharp right and we would veer off the pathway and up through the fields of yellowed grass. We would be so concentrated on our steps, that we would hardly talk. Up and across four hills we would go, our breathing coming more and more quickly, save for Michael’s. Michael had never been one to tire easily, due to his constant soccer practices and his strong runner’s legs. We were all so jealous of him.
At the time, he and Rachel were dating, and every hike that we would make, they could hardly take their eyes off one another. Between pants, we would make fun of them and call Rachel, Mrs. Devengenzo. She would only laugh.
When we finally got to our hill, I would collapse next to Narimane, and we would both get a little something to eat from our extra lunches. We would swap and share like a family, and then once the food was taken care of, we would lean back against our backpacks, and gaze across everything that was ours. Oceans of gold surrounded us, and the wind combed through the grass, making it roll like waves in a stormy sea. It was beautiful. We could see all of our city, we could see our school, and the high school that we would attend in a few month’s time. The world was at our fingertips and we stared across it with a quiet contemplation. We were like distant kings and queens staring out over our kingdom, arrogant, self righteous, loving, and proud. Our Golden Hills were like our Narnia.
Head to head, Rachel and Michael would be lost in a world of their own, lost in their shallow, youthful love. Narimane and I stared out across our land with more private thoughts, and I never wondered if it was better that way.
Hands folded in my lap, a water bottle at my side, and the dried grass pricking my arms, I could only stare with wonder at what spread out before us. Growing up can mean so many things to so many people. To me, growing up was reaching a certain age where I would simply gain large quantities of responsibility. I believed in my mind, that you were a grown up when you got to be fifteen. With only a year left to go, I could feel my childhood slipping away, and it was on that hilltop that I was able to relive it all.
Staring up and into the azure sky, I thought of everything that I’d done, everything that I’d accomplished. It was so little. Here I was, staring out over a league of land and people and places… I was forced to ask myself who I was, and what I was meant to do with my life.
If you ask people nowadays, what the meaning of life is, there are few who will answer quickly and truthfully. Many people would say wealth, happiness, to help others, to satisfy themselves, to just live. However, the most sincere and quick answer that I got, was to serve the God that created us. To bring His children home.
Honestly, I believe that with all of my heart.
It is a constant trial for me to live my life like that, and now, two years after those hikes, as an incoming sophomore in high school, I can say that it is my most challenging tribulation yet. I’ve already forfeited my whole freshmen year to my selfish, ungodly desires, and I can only hope and pray that what I realized on that hill, will take a deeper root in my heart. Realization is not the same as living for God, it is simply a first baby step.
As a younger girl, I could see that more clearly, but as I grew up, everything became diluted. My landscape became tainted with rain clouds, and I became bitterly fearful of what was to come. I ran away, and only now, after years of separation, only now have I even considered returning. Weak in my faith, but dedicated to renewing it, I can only hope to someday restore those brilliant blue skies. I can only hope that the memory of my hills will become more then just a memory.
One day, I believe that I will sleep untroubled, once more, within the comforting arms of my golden hills.