When I awakened this morning I decided it really is true what they say—some memories just won't die. For all our days—life resembles a stage. People enter our lives—we live in the sunshine of their presence for a little time—then sometimes slowly—other times painfully abrupt— their light flickers out. Like the vapor from a teakettle, they are gone.

Sometimes when I feel that yearning to return to a happier time, I drag out my little Memory Canoe. I paddle off in the direction of a fair land that has never existed, except in one person's memory—Mine.

There is a Sweet Someone who lives there in that fair land and I still like her a lot. Down through the long years, —I have from time to time—returned to that beautiful place that is forever known to me as the Land of Jenny.

However, just this one time, kind reader, I thought I might make an exception. I'd like to invite you to come along. There's room for two, in this old canoe—so hop in—we are about to get underway...

No... , you don't need to help with the paddling, Let me take care of that. Memory River, this river you and I are now sailing on, is such a beautiful place. So all you need to do is relax and just enjoy the trip.

Now... , If you will look off over on the left bank there, you can see the grass looks lush and green. Have you ever noticed how the grass from the past always looks greener?

Anyway, we've been moving quite rapidly. What you see going by on the opposite bank is the Decade of the 1960's. Oops! I'm afraid you just missed it. (Sure glad I didn't)

If you look quickly, you can just catch a fleeting glimpse of the 1950's flying by. I'm telling you Christopher Columbus would have killed to have a Ship that sails as fast as this Memory Canoe! (What can I say? I like to try for funny once in a while.)

Okay... , the 1940's should be coming up any minute. We'd better start slowing down. Keep an eye out for the Year 1940. Okay... ? Ahhh... , there 'tis...

Oh... , look... ! See the girl, sitting over there on the bank fishing? That's Jenny...

Adrift... Memories of 1940...

Whew! What a hot day! The sun is so hot it's starting to reflect off the darned water. I sure wish I had brought something cool to drink, Ernie thought, as he wiped the sweat off his face.

Just then, he felt a tug on his fishing line. That feels like a catfish, he thought. A moment later, he had his first keeper of the day. A sixteen-inch catfish lie flopping around in the bottom of his rowboat. As he took the fishhook out, and dropped the fish into a large bucket, he smiled to himself thinking of tonight's meal. I hope I can catch a few more big Ones, he thought.

A few minutes later, Ernie stopped paddling and let his rowboat drift slowly into a secluded little Cove where he knew the fish were usually biting. Just as he was about to cast his fishing line into one of the Cove's, deep dark pools, he spotted someone who looked vaguely familiar fishing from the bank. When he finally realized who she was, his adolescent heart started to beat wildly.