Mr. Bevenson was the consummate traveler. He’d been everywhere that was anywhere. He’d even journeyed to both poles. What he was particularly gifted at, was meeting the local people and being invited into their homes. He liked seeing how others in the world lived, how they decorated their homes, what they ate, and what stories they told ( if he understood the language, and usually he did because that was his other talent). He learned languages as easily as some people are able to learn a particular melody. He had friends around the world and received numerous letters from far off places everyday. Whenever he went away he had the postman stop delivery otherwise his box would be jammed with letters, with even more stacked in high piles around his small mailbox.
However much he enjoyed traveling, it was always a big thrill for him to come home. He could then look at his comfy home and his beautiful things collected from all over the world and see them with appreciative eyes. In fact, if you asked him he would tell you, that was the reason that he left as often as he did. So that all the world including his own home was always new, fresh, and amazing to him.
Is it time for a journey?
Copyright 2013 Ann Gates Fiser All rights reserved