As I was traveling through an old neighborhood that I used to live in, I caught a glimpse of some houses that were in need of repair or needed to be torn down. What once was a very elegant subdivision, has turned into shambles. There were only a few of my old neighbors still left there. One of the few that still remained was an Indian family. They used to have some old Indian rituals in their backyard, but nothing out of the ordinary.
This particular evening, as I was traveling through, I saw my friend Carl. At first glance I never would have recognized him. He was dressed from head to toe in one of his tribal costumes. He was wearing a full suit, made out of some sort of feathery material. It was mostly all yellow, with some varying patches attached to it. I just had to stop and see him one more time.
As I approached him, I noticed something very strange. He had painted his face and was yelling out some noises that I could barely understand. When he finally stopped yelling, he could see me standing there in front of him. At first, neither of us knew what to say. The last time I saw him he was totally against his family’s religion. This time, he was completely covered in the garb of his family.
After what seemed like ages, he smiled at me and I smiled back. I decided to give him a hug. He greeted me warmly with a return hug. He began to explain to me why he had decided to join his family instead of continuing to be against it.
We talked for hours and finally decided it was time for me to go. I climbed back into my car and headed home. I realized that I had a memory from the past that I will never forget.
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