HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU

Therefore, to one who knows the right thing to do,

and does not do it, to him it is sin.

James 4:17 (NASB)

I loved Saturday afternoons when I was in grade school because Saturday was the day I could go to the "show." That's what we called the movies back then.  We didn't have a lot of money, but Mother could usually come up with 25 cents for this Saturday afternoon outing.  It took 20 cents to buy a ticket to get into the State Theater.  I then had a nickel left over that I used at the concession area.  I usually purchased a fat Charms sucker that I could lick on through two cowboy movies and one cartoon.  I spent a lot of time on Saturday afternoons watching Lash LaRue, Hopalong Cassidy, the Lone Ranger and Gene Autry.   However, my favorites were always Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.

I have never regretted spending most of my childhood in the 1940's and then teen years in the happy days of the 50's.  I believe it was about the last I saw of a strong, healthy America.  In the 40's, WW II was going on.  There were no demonstrations, media tirades, rebellion against authority as we would come to know it in the 60's.  Everyone was  pro-American, spoke English and basically had a firm footing on what was right and what was wrong.  There were no gray areas.

As a child, I not only knew about right and wrong from my parents, but it was reinforced everywhere I went...teachers, pastors, Sunday school teachers, neighbors and family friends.  Do a bad thing in a neighbors yard and I was just as likely to get a spankin' from that neighbor as from my parents.  I even learned a lot from the cowboy movies I saw on Saturday afternoons.  You knew the good guys from the bad ones,  which is rather hard to sort out these days.

I had a friend three doors up from my house who loved to play cowboys.  He had neat guns and holster.  I had some old wooden ones that my dad had made for me and they did fine for play.  We both had little sisters about the same age.  They usually had to either be the bad guys or indians depending on what we decided to play on any given day.  We were the best in the West as far as we were concerned.  Hours were spent riding the range on pretend horses around the Oak Street ranch (that was the block we lived on).  We were only in the first grade so couldn't cross any streets.  Even in our play, we put into action those right things so many had instilled in us, doing our best to avoid being the bad guys.

Last September,  I went back to my home town for my annual visit to my sister's home.   I took a day to just drive around town, especially to drive slowly on Oak Street looking at the old familiar houses, remembering people now long gone  Most of the houses still look about the same although there are some major changes.  Mrs. Britton's house is still there.  (She was one who would give me a swat on my bottom if she didn't like something I did.)  I loved Mrs. Britton though.  My mind went back to those "wonderful days of yore," when four kids lovingly and actively became western characters.  After spending some time just remembering and driving that "old trail," I penned the following:

ROY  AND  DALE

The sun couldn't come up too early

For a cowgirl and restless cowboy.

Lots of bad guys needed catchin'...

Folks counted on young Dale and strong Roy.

With wide brimmed hats and ropes on belts,

And homemade six shooter gun,

There wasn't nary a bad man

Dale and Roy couldn't keep on the run.

They ran through Mrs. Britton's back yard

That had ever so slight of a hill.

They galloped on down the alley,

Pretend horses running at will.

By end of day, pretend horses were tired;

So were strong Roy and young Dale.

Every bad guy in the neighborhood,

Either fled or were put in pretend jail.

Lessons were learned from such playing,

Reinforcement of wrong and what's right.

You knew who the bad and good guys were,

You knew the dark from the light.

Our culture is quite different now--

Many a soul up for sale.

Perhaps we need turnin' to days long ago,

Of strong Roy and a cowgirl named Dale.

When you come to a fork in the trail, always go the "right" way.

Dear Heavenly Father...

I thank you for giving me Your sweet Holy Spirit at the very moment of my salvation.  I thank You, Holy Spirit, for Your promptings in my life when I am tending to go a wrong direction.  Help me to always be sensitive to Your leading in my life.  Forgive me for the times I ignore Your leading.  I desperately need Your direction daily and I thank you for loving and guididng me through all the ups and downs of my life.       Amen