Most people have a special place that they visit whenever they can. Sometimes they go to the mountains or the ocean or another place that means something to them. My spot is much easier to get a chance to visit because it is in my own backyard, and I take advantage of it as frequently as possible. There is a special bench beside the back door, which calls to me whenever I am in the vicinity. When the newspaper arrives, a knowledge of what has happened overnight becomes imperative and I rush to get the paper, but instead of doing the expected thing and returning to the warm living room and televi sion, my path leads around the house to my special seat on the patio. That is where the paper is read, under the bright night light, which bathes the whole area in an artificial glow until the sun's first rays hit the automatic switch that ex changes one kind of light for another. A glance at my watch sends me hurrying into the house to begin my day while life on the, patio goes on. The birds sing and chatter, with periodic stops to guard their territory against all real or imaginary intruders. The sun rises high in the sky and the morning's energies change to a time of quiet rest while the sun's heat seems to diminish the importance of any unnecessary exertion. The day passes. The mail box is my first stop. Then from there I go back to that special spot to read the mail. It is sorted before it ever ìr enters the unbelievable amount of mail seems to find its way to my house. The number of lists that contain my name or that of my children or my deceased hus band and mother seem to go on forever. In fact, my step-dad, who has been dead for more than 30 years, still has mail for-' warded to my house. Glancing up, I see my resi-, dent robins, with their wings outspread, beseechingly looking! at me and waiting for the sprinkler to be turned on.| Everything can use some water, after a day with such oppressive • heat. ; Birds come from everywhere. I They flit through the shifting streams of water as if this was their own special entertainment. The resident robins are pa-1 tient. They act as if they unders tand the needs of others, but when one of the visitors tries to pull a worm from the ground, they turn on the others and try to drive them out of the yard. They might share the water, but ] they certainly weren't going to share the worms. Enough is enough. Hours pass and shadows fall across the patio. The temperature starts to fall and. the birds slip into their overnight' shelters. The fuschias sway gent ly in the soft breeze. It is watering time. My plants are beautiful, but they are con sumers of more drinks than I really want to spend time giving them. The sun drops below the horizon leaving behind a bright glow in the sky, which gradually darkens until it almost disap pears, and just as it does, th< automatic light comes on an< turns everything bright again. Another day has passed an< the time has come to leave m, special place and go into th« house for the night From tim< to time during the darkness, 1'1 peek out a window making surf that all is well. by Bee Hall “Inner Strength After just a few years of marriage, the tarnish of real life had overcome us. I was disenchanted as my knight on the white charger began to look more and more human. We had both become complacent and were taking each other for granted. I complained that he didn’t pay enough attention to me or spend enough time with the children. Any ailment sent him reeling, and I perceived this as weakness. It never occurred to me that he was working in conditions that were not conducive to extra energy or high spirits. His morning started as any other. He was working on a por table power transformer when the electricity jumped forth from the energized switch, like a mad dog, aiming to attack anything within its reach. The huge fireball came into contact with his right wrist between the cuff of his jacket and his glove; 34,500 volts tracked over him. It raced up and under his arm, and then across his chest. Some current entered his body and found its way out the palm of his left hand and thigh which were resting against a steel beam. The force knocked him backwards off the ladder he had been standing on. He fell approximately 10 feet and landed on a metal grate, splitting his scalp and ripping open his face. When his working partner reached him, he was not breathing and his heart was stopped. His tongue was swollen and pro truding from his mouth. His muscles had contracted to such an extent that his neck, huge and tight, resembled that of a buck deer in rut. CPR was started, but there was no way of giving ar tificial respiration. All of the sudden he took a deep breath through his nose. In shock, he began to try to get up and was mumbling something unintelligible. When the paramedics arriv ed, they placed him in the ambulance and began attending his multiple injuries. They doubted that he would survive the 45 mile trip to the nearest hospital. Once in the hospital, his charred clothing was cut away, expos ing the extensive damage. Blisters hung from his body like huge water balloons. He shook the table so hard that the rattling of it! metal parts could be heard in the waiting room. Through all ol this he heard and recognized my mother’s voice. He demandec to know where the children were and who was taking care ol them. Weeks of painful debrising followed the accident. Several dif ferent treatments were tried: some good, some bad, some helpful, some damaging. The force of his jaw muscles constric ting had shattered seven of his teeth and loosened the rest, mak ing it hard for him to eat. The bum on his face from the flash had started to heal and gave it an eerie gray look. His head was par dally shaved to accommodate the black worm-like stitches. His arm had started to swell and was elevated by tying it in an upright position on an I.V. pole. He laid there helpless and in torment for 30 days. He rarely complained, and when he did it was justified. At one point he realized he was becoming addicted to the medication. During an evening visit, he informed his doctor that he would no longei take the pain medication. His reasoning being, he was going to have enough to overcome without a dependency on drugs. Seven months later he returned to work for the same company, repairing the same equipment. He would say, “If you fall off the horse, you gotta get back on.” Many years have passed and he has hit mare obstacles. Each time he is faced with a situation where the odds seem insurmoun table, I watch him draw upon the faith that kept him alive, the strength that brought him through the pain, and the determine tion that helped him return to the profession that he loved. He is not the man I thought I married; he is much more. by Alta Ray