Mom Has Guardian Angels, Too.

My mom grew up in a little town that no longer exists. They lived in the heights, kind of in the foothills of the mountains, so houses and roads were situated in such a way that there was a bench, then down the hill was another bench, and so fourth. When mom was about 6 or 7 years old they lived way up on the foothill, one down from the top.

Down the hill from mom's house, towards the bottom, was the main road. Across the road was the school, and down from that was the church. All the roads and parking lots were, of course, gravel and tar black top.

Mom was a great skater. And she had a cool pair of skates, you know, the kind with a key!

She would start at the top of the hill, skate all the way down the hill, from level to level, across the main road, into the school yard, around the back of the school, continue down into the parking lot behind the church - who knows how fast she was going at this point - and when she reached the bottom of the hill, she turned her skates, so her heels were facing each other, and skate in big circles, until she stopped.

She never once fell down...

Until she was 13 years old and went roller skating at a nice, safe, controlled skating rink. She thought she could be a graceful swan, with arms outstretched, skating on one foot, with her other leg stretched out behind her. She couldn't. She fell and broke her arm. Apparently that takes more skill than hurling out of control, down gravely, black top roads, in and out of parking lots, only to come to a stop after circling around and around and around until all momentum is gone.

- Chel