Pitter patter went the little feet of the rambunctious, young boy. No older than three, and up before either of his parents he hunted for something to entertain himself with. Running around his home he darted through doors and ducked around corners trying to find something to play with. He crawled on the floor, looking under furniture; tables, chairs and the couch. Finally, the boy found a small hole in the wall behind a table; it was just big enough for him to squeeze through to the outside. His eyes widened as he imagined running through the fields carefree. Checking over his shoulder to be sure his parents weren't up yet, he slipped through the crack into the bright, clear morning.

He looked to the sky, felt the sun warm his cheeks, felt the breeze blow through his short, scruffy hair. Laughing, he ran. He ran through the grass with his little, stubby legs, his short arms pumping at his sides, but he didn't go far. Just a little ways from the house, the boy found a stick, a long, thin branch he could easily hold between his two, small hands. He approached a hill, climbed to the top and imagined that he was guarding a castle, his home. He imagined he was six feet tall, with strength and speed; he swung the little branch around as if it was a sword and he was fending off an opponent. He was a knight, defending his kingdom. He poked, swatted and swiped, pretending that the tall weeds were people. Overly excited and swinging wildly, he toppled over and rolled down the hill. Rolling over onto his back he giggled uncontrollably, clutching his tummy with both hands. He got to his feet, grabbed his "sword," climbed the hill, and "fought" again. And again he stumbled, fell and rolled down the hill.

All in good fun this continued for the better part of an hour until the boy grew bored. He looked back the way he had come and decided...it was time to go home. Placing the stick on the top of his "castle" he ran through the grass toward home. Reaching his destination, he stopped, out of breath and turned around. Looking to the sky once more he knew this wouldn't be the last time he ran through these fields so jolly and freewheeling. Smiling to himself, he crawled back through the crack and ran to his parents' bedroom. They were just waking, his mother watched him run into the room. He trotted over to her bedside and she smiled down at him. "Hello little one" she said as she reached down to pick him up. Cuddling him close into the blankets, she asked "what did you do this morning?" Her son smiled up at her, his eyes glowing like the dawn.