Personal Narrative Essay: The Power Of The Druids

828 Words 4 Pages
After we prepared the house for the dinner party, I went for a walk in the woods, and my aunt stayed behind to survey her sister’s belongings. As I walked, I enjoyed the freshness of the woods and the odor of fresh water that the afternoon wind carried across the land. I found an old stump. The heart of the three had rotted away, and some pine needles had fallen into the bottom of the hole. It looked as if some animal had spread them evenly as if preparing a nest. Across the opening, a spider had spun its web. I sat on the stump and looked at a group of birch trees. I remembered how birch bark supplied the pitch to seal the hide of a Welsh’s fishing boat. I was thinking of my great uncles and cousins. How different their life had been. I …show more content…
She was wrong. I wished she was right, but somehow my death from a gun seemed eminent. I trembled and wanted the smell of the woods and the river to calm me as I smoked a bowl. After a while, I returned home. In the kitchen besides my aunt’s purse was a brown box. It was the size of jewelry box. It was stained cherry red. I went to cupboard, poured myself a cup of coffee, and joined my aunt in the living room. She was sitting on the couch looking at some pictures her sister kept in her bible. She lightly slapped the cushion, beckoning me to sit beside her. Thumbing through the pictures, she selected one. “This is my grandfather and uncle,” she said, handing the picture to me. As I looked at the picture, I had an uncontrollable urge to tell her about my visions. After I finished, I said, “The visions seem to repeat themselves. They make me uncomfortable when they occur at work or in church. The visions made me feel like I wanted to steel money or a child’s prayer book. Does that make me crazy?” “Your great uncle Jim would look into a porcelain pan of water for hours. He swore he saw the dead walking and sitting. Sometimes, they would talk to him. Your aunt and I were among the few who didn’t call him crazy.” “What makes a man crazy,” I

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