These Boots Were Made For Walking, But The Soles Have Holes

21 10 2011

I was a fortunate child in many respects, but in one alone I’ve been feeling as though I’m falling short in my duties as a parent as of late – that of introducing my children to the world around them.  My parents, much more affluent than I have ever been, raised me, in part, in a foreign nation.  As a result, they found ease in traveling to the historical foundations of the world stage and I was able to experience so much at an early age.

I can clearly recall standing in the cold at a border patrol station and hearing the story of Heidi as I looked on the Swiss Alps; or boating down a slow river through an Amsterdam town and hearing the story of Ann Frank as I looked up at the buildings with awe.  I remember examining the shoes of tourists while everyone around me stared in amazement at Michelangelo’s Sistine masterpieces.  Even after moving to the States, we took in DC, the New England states, the Civil War sites, and the Santa Fe Trail.  Every family trip was a new adventure through or to a landmark that was founded in history.

Granted, we were able to take the girls to England last year and they were able to explore and experience so much in a short time, but it isn’t near what I had seen by their age.  I find myself the past few weeks, wrestling with these comparisons and wishing that we didn’t live a few degrees north of hell and that there were more locations in a days’ drive that I could help them to experience.

Finances aren’t the only short coming, though they are they most significant hurdle I face.  But the world has changed too.  The Holy City isn’t near as accessible by an American foreigner as it was twenty years ago, nor is the Acropolis or even the Mall.  Landmarks are bullseyes and Americans aren’t as trustworthy…strike that…strangers aren’t as trustworthy, in any land.

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