I had come up to Lake Arrowhead this particular weekend hoping to receive some confirmation for the book I am researching and writing about the over-excitable mind. It seems that it is consuming me, and I was asking God to either take away my passion for the subject, or else give me the thumbs up to proceed. My family was sacrificing quite a lot of me already. Was it fair to ask them to give more? Should I wait until the kids were older? I’d been feeling such a sense of urgency to get my thoughts and research out there but needed a sign to give me some peace one way or another.
As I walked along the trail looking for the perfect writing spot, I happened upon a secluded beach where I could set my chair and put my feet up on a stump where a tree had previously been. It also made a nice little table for my things. An iced tea in a to-go cup from “I can’t remember where,” my Bible, and my daily 100 calorie pack of m&m’s – a few of my favorite items. I held my journal in my lap and with pen in hand I started some “stream of consciousness” writing to get my thoughts on the page. Suddenly, some movement caught my eye, and I looked up to find a two-man kayak in the distance coming toward me. The paddles were not at all synchronized and were very sporadically skimming the water, yet amazingly they were making pretty good time! As they came closer to the shore, I noticed that they were very young; and when they beached, I called out to them and asked how old they were. “I’m seven and he’s eight,” the youngest replied. I was first astonished and then impressed that their parents allowed them such an adventure (with life vests on of course). Once their toes hit the sand, they were off skipping rocks and hunting for apples that had fallen from a nearby tree – just being boys. Soon, they were back in the boat and headed toward home.
I continued to write and quietly resolved to give my own sons “wings and a paddle” to explore their world more often without my worry about “what might happen,” getting in their way. It felt like mere minutes went by before I saw the two boys running along the trail and over to where I was sitting.
Here’s how the conversation went between the youngest and me…
7-year old: “Hi.”
Me: “Hi.”
Him: “You’ve been here a long time!”
Me: “Yeah, I’m writing.” I showed him my journal.
Him: “You’re an artist?”
Me: “No, I’m a writer. Well, I guess that’s an artist huh?”
Him: “Yeah, writers are artists. They make words fancy.” (Mind you, he’s only SEVEN!) “Are you famous?”
Me: “Not yet. But I hope I will be someday! What’s your name?”
Him: “Ryan. And that is Parker over there. (Parker never did say much. Just then Ryan noticed a picture I had sketched) “Hey, you ARE an artist. That looks good!”
Me: “Really? Thanks!”
Ryan: “It would look even better if you just colored it a little right here,” he pointed.
Me: “ok, I will.” And I did.
He stayed close to me as we started talking about first grade and how hard it was for him with the homework, the longer school day, and the fact that he kept getting in trouble for letting his thoughts out at inappropriate times. “But at least we get four recesses!” He exclaimed. “Yes,” I replied. “At least you get that!” It was becoming clear that this kid was wise beyond his years. It also was clear that he knew I got him - that I understood him instinctively. We had formed a very real connection in a short period of time, he and I. This was confusing because other than my own and those closest to me, I’m not really a “kid” kinda person. Especially when I am trying to write!
Ryan: “We’ll kayak back to you, Ok?
Me: “Ok, I’ll be watching!”
The kayak returned for a second time with Ryan at the helm. They beached and he left Parker to dig up a rock he’d found. He ran to me full speed and got really close.
Ryan: “I want to see how much more you wrote!”
Me : “See? (I showed him) This page is about you!”
Ryan: (with a sad face) “But what about Parker?”
Me: (damage control) “Oh, his name is right there,” I assured him.
That seemed to satisfy his big, over-excitable heart well enough and after some more talking, he got ready to leave again...But not before he presented me with some treasures he had found. Some yellow leaves, a green apple, and a piece of bark with holes that he said were made by a woodpecker. Such special gifts…
Ryan: “Will you be here tomorrow?” He asked.
Me: “I don’t know, so I’ll say goodbye now just in case.”
Ryan: “If I don’t see you, I’ll always remember you.” (ok, he’s SEVEN!)
Me: “I’ll always remember you, too, Ryan.”
Ryan: “I always remembered a girl Kim from Palm Springs. She put me up on her shoulders when I got out of the pool. And she was even DRY!”
He ran and jumped into the boat with Parker for the last time and turned back to me and yelled once more from a distance, “BYE! I”LL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU!!”
He waved and waved, and then he paddled off – and I cried and cried as I waved back. You see, I had this encounter with an angel and indeed received the confirmation I had been seeking. 
This book is for you Ryan, and for my son Austin and the small population of other children and adults who suffer on a daily basis for having a higher than average intellect that results in an over-excitable mind, heart, and body. Who have a keen perception and deeper emotion that few can understand. But I understood, and he knew it. We sensed each other!
They will label him ADHD because of his boredom in school that causes him to bounce off the ceiling (what will happen when he stops getting those four recesses?). When he becomes an adult, he will continue to be told by others to stop over-thinking his big, black or white existence. Over time, his meds will change from Ritalin to Prozac. Only they won’t be able to give him a pill that will shrink his world down to a manageable size and he will perpetually wonder what’s wrong with him…
Then hopefully someone will give him my book to read…and maybe, just maybe, he’ll see his name in the acknowledgements…and he won’t feel so alone after all.
"Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels unaware..."
The book of Hebrews, Chapter 13, verse 2
