Froggy

A bowl of corn flakes, a piece of toast, maybe some chocolate milk and we were off to see Froggy. Froggy lived next door in Fofo and Florence’s backyard in the wishing well that was made of rough mortar and baseball-size rocks.

The wishing well was falling apart. It was more than half-way filled with dirt and a variety of items like small broken pieces of charred wood and tiny pieces of concrete along with chunks of thick, green, brown and blue colored glass.

An old wooden fence separated the backyards. We had to slide one of the loose slats over so we could walk through. Just a few more steps away… our friend, our comrade and much to our delight; Froggy waited. Our treasure and gold mine of joy, serendipity!

One could sit comfortably on the short stack of lumber next to the well to lean over and look inside. There was plenty of space for someone to sit on the wall of the well and it was the most perfectly wonderful place to be in the world.

The day Mark and Mary, four year old twins, setting off just after breakfast, venturing on to hunt, not exactly knowing what they were hunting for. What a discovery! Froggy was all but weathered, brittle, broken bits of discolored sponge nestled, cozy and comfy.

Oh sure Froggy was quiet, we didn’t care, we managed to communicate and talk about everything and nothing at all. We enjoyed the company of our friend and getting lost in the magic of youthful innocence. Those lifeless pieces of dried up sponge came to life. Our special little friend was as old as time and as brand new as the first light of day.

The short visits seemed so timeless. We reveled in our little self-contained flights of fancy where our imagination took us to far away places, questions answered, observations made and wishes granted. Froggy enhanced, entranced and enchanted the lives of two little people forever. I hope you have known a friend like Froggy somewhere in your life as well.