Now that the academic year at St. Meinrad is over and I have returned home for a short respite before leaving for San Antonio, I have a bit of time to reflect. When I usually reflect, I wonder around, and my back yard tends to be where I do most of the wondering. As I was walking and thinking, I came to the back corner of the yard, where I spent hours each day in my youth. In this corner of the yard is "the Fort;" an old playhouse on stilts. I remember the day I got it. My brother and I were coming back from visiting my father, and as we drove up to the house, I saw Poppa working on the final touches.
Originally, the Fort had a yellow slide, a merry-go-round, a webbed ladder, a fireman's pole and a climbing rope. The roof was a blue, yellow, and red striped tarp, and there was a rug ladder that doubled as a draw-bridge. I must have been no older than 7 or 8 at the time. I fell in love with it, and the adventures of my youth really took flight.
The Fort was one of two things over the years, depending on either what I was learning in classes or what TV shows I was watching. It started out as a space ship. "The U.S.S. Marie-Celest" - (I had just seen a documentary about a ghost ship, and I thought this was a cool name).
After a few years, I joined 4-H, and got some chickens and guinea pigs to raise. With this came the second phase of the Fort -- "Foshland Manor." I had been learning about the Middle Ages and the feudal system, and so, naturally, the chickens were my court, while my guinea pigs were the "plebians" who lived on the other side of the Duchy of Foshland (the backyard).
When I got out of 4-H, I got rid of the chickens and guinea pigs, and phase three of the Fort was underway -- spaceship again, only this time it was equipped with an engineering room (the old chicken coop butted up next to the fort) with a warp core (made of left-over chicken wire and one of those plastic tubes you whirl around to make the whistling noise). Behind the captain's chair (a lawn chair) I strategically positioned a battery-powered boom box from which I would play "action music" during times when I was being attacked by aliens.
The last stage was when I came into the Church. I was about 13 or so at the time, and although I was growing out of stuff like this, I clung to my Fort -- it meant something more than just childhood fantasy. I moved the chicken coop away from the Fort and made it into a chapel -- "Mater Dei Church" -- and refurbished the Fort, cleaning out the old toys and making it look as much like the old "Foshland Manor" as possible. I also changed the backyard from a duchy to a diocese...
Today, the Fort is tattered and broken -- the slide, merry-go-round and ladder are gone. The frame itself is leaning and the tarp that had served as a roof is mostly torn to shreds. The chapel and the Fort are now used to store lawn supplies, and most of those little touches I put up so long ago have disappeared.
There is still a statue of Our Lady behind the chapel, though, and so I took a moment to stop and pray there. As I reflected in front of her, and looked around me at the memories of my youth, I wished I could go back -- just for a little while -- and relive those times of happiness and innocence.
I then realized what blessings I have now that I didn't have then -- I am a seminarian; I have close friends I did not have before; I have four beautiful nieces and nephews; I am a godfather; and soon I am to be a priest. I saw the growth in my life since these beautiful memories took place, and I thanked God.
Who could have known back then what would take place since in my life? Only God.
