Login

Home

My Happy Place

Every person should have a Happy Place—that place you escape to when reality is too difficult. When the dentist starts that high-pitched drill, I go to my Happy Place. When the movie screen presents a scene that is too graphic for my tastes, I immediately go to my Happy Place.

 
You’ll think it odd, but my Happy Place is a maple tree. This is no ordinary tree, but rather a friend of mine. This particular maple tree knows all of my childhood secrets, hopes, and fears. 
 
On Sunnycrest Farm south of South Whitley, Indiana, there is a large maple tree that at one time held a rope and a tire swing. Its branches stretched far and wide with a root system that created small hiding places along the ground. It could be climbed, but I was totally afraid of heights. I reached the top branches in my imagination as I swung on the rope swing or made lazy circles on the tire straddling the top or shimmied through the center of the old rubber tire.
 
The tree created a canopy of shade for the hammock where mom would recline sending me on a firefly catching mission. On a particularly good summer evening, I could find not only fireflies but also a toad that would eat the fireflies causing its tummy to glow. In the fall, the tree would turn a brilliant gold and shed its leaves making a thick carpet that I would rake into piles for jumping. 
 
I can honestly say there was a time I loved that tree. Still, as an adult, when I need to escape the bitter realities of life, I go to my Happy Place—that glorious maple tree on Sunnycrest Farm.
 
Swap stories with someone you love today. Sharing a memory of childhood or one’s Happy Place is a good place to begin.
 
Learn more about storytelling at www.carolknarr.com.