As kids, we had the run of our rural neighborhood. Especially in summer, you could find us anywhere our bikes would take us. Other times though, we would explore the woods that were the boundary behind the big field that encircled our house. It was in the field behind our house that I tested my beliefs and faith in a higher being.
Our neighbors were the Watsons, a Catholic family whose children often talked about God and going to heaven by way of a ladder or staircase. I remember standing alone in that field, facing west and contemplating the possibility that such a thing could happen just by having faith that it would.
No doubt, I considered myself a very powerful being (I was actually quite naive) because as I stood there determining whether or not I wanted to envision that stairway to heaven, it occurred to me that if it came down I would cease to be me here on Earth. Keep in mind, I was probably only nine or ten years old at the time. The thing is, I truly believed it could happen. It's too bad that I have lost that blind faith and now I am a 57 year old cynic. Still, I am not ready to go out in the backyard and take a chance.