Good New Days

I'm not sure how my mind segues from one topic to another, but I was reminded today of candy I used to eat when I was a kid: Black Cow. I wondered if products we loved in our youth will be once again available to us in Heaven, not that I'm in a hurry to get there. Then I wondered what was so great about them, other than that they reminded me of childhood. People always talk about "The Good Old Days" when they were carefree and had no worries. I don't remember mine being so good, and I had plenty of worries. I was bullied in the nice, Catholic school to which my parents made huge sacrifices to send my siblings and me. The teachers liked me, but the kids were awful. I was worried about grades. A's were acceptable. B's were not. I had to walk to the convent for guitar lessons, and as a tiny 4th grader, that guitar was awfully heavy. I could not ride a bike and carry the guitar, so I walked on guitar lesson days. I don't remember going hungry particularly, but we did have a large family, and Sister Angela (God rest her soul) used to give me Holy cards as a reward if I'd gain a pound. That was many years ago, and I don't remember it generally being a happy, joyous time. Today I have confidence I didn't have then. I have a much better self-image. I have knowledge and wisdom. I am focused on doing for others, instead of me me me. That, my friends, is the hallmark of maturity, whether age 8 or 80. Being happy with oneself and one's life, and having hope for the future trumps sitting around complaining how much better the olden days were, and that you can't buy black cows. Eat a Milkdud. Same candy, different shape. Whatever.