Wednesday Wonderings

I wish to be a knight.

I wish to ride about the land, brandishing justice in my hand.

Giving due honor and respect to all those I come across, defeating dragons and curses with sword and a cross.

I wish to be a knight, said the girl with dreams in her eyes.  I wish to save others from peril, and prove myself worthy of my title.

Often times I forget about that girl, that girl who was me.  Her dreams get stuck in the closet, stored in boxes beneath the clothing and shoes, cat food and paperwork, of the current me.

The days lately are long, this week particularly hard.  Yet when I awoke this morning, I remembered her.  As I waited for the train, I caught my reflection in a window.  Is this woman really the person I wanted to be?  Is she a knight, selfless and true?  Does she devote her life to saving others from peril?  Has she proven herself worthy of her title?

The answer is, not yet.  I returned home, and wanted to turn off my brain with tv and tea, but instead I pulled down my copy of King Arthur and his Knights.  I read again of Sir Gareth, the courageous knight of the Kitchen, of his nobility and strength.  And I realized I had never forgot that dreaming girl, as I am still her.  Strength came in remembering that my choices in life had all stemmed from this silly, idealistic fact:

I wish to be a knight.

And I know now, for certain, one day I will be a knight.  Though it will be one in my own way.

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