Scrapbook One Hundred Twenty One Point Seven…



Melissa has an unruly health issue that has her in a pensive mood to write stories for her grandsons. She has a nice way of expressing her thoughts that I suspect are similar to what each of us has felt on occasion.

At a time when our world is casting dark shadows over the land, maybe it’s now that we should reflect back to our basic human instincts, and remember what’s most important in our daily lives. Here is one of Melissa’s stories. f

The day I ran away from Home

Me and Tippy

Me and Tippy

It was 1962 and I was 8 years old. I felt like no one cared about me or even knew I was around. The night before I had been playing outside and it had gotten dark. I was being so brave by staying outside in the dark. When I went to come inside the front door was locked. That sort of puzzled me so I went around to the side door which was glass and it was locked to. I looked in and didn’t see Dad or Mom sitting in their chairs. I ran to the back door and it was also locked. I was sort of half panicked and went back to the front door and looked in the door which was glass also and everything was dark. I sat on the porch for a moment and tears came and I went to the back side of the house and climbed up the pipe and went in the bedroom window and then just went to bed thinking and crying that no one cared about me. Just left me outside and everyone had gone to bed I guess but didn’t even check to see where I was. Something like that can work on a kids mind. So the next day I was going to run away. I got my little blue and white record player with the handle on it and took out the player and it made a little suit case. I put coco my little stuffed dog in, a couple dollars and went down stairs to the kitchen made me a sandwich and got an apple and was all ready to run away. While I was walking down the hall to the front door here comes dad. He asked, “where you going”? And “whatcha got”?  I told him I was running away cause no one cared about me and told him what I had in my box, cause I always told my dad everything. He said, “okay, but first you need to say goodbye to all the animals cause they will surely miss you”. I said okay and he said, ” I hope you come back and visit”, and I said okay.

So I headed out, said goodbye to the horses, then the cats and when it came time to say goodbye to my dog Tippy, I just cried and cried….then I headed out the driveway to the park and when I got there, I sat and ate my sandwich and hugged my little coco and cried some more and then just ran back home.

I am pretty sure that Dad knew I would have had a hard time leaving the animals and especially my dog.