©April 1998
Carol Jane Remsburg
LOST IN THE
CORNFIELD
The corn was tall in the field next to the little
house were Erin lived. Its cool
darkness was inviting on that hot summer afternoon. In fact, it was so steamy outside that the great maple tree’s
leaves were beginning to curl.
Little Erin was busy playing in her backyard with
her dog as the sun blazed down from above.
The sun might have been a brilliant blue but young children don’t
realize how hot it is until they overheat.
Erin’s dog knew it first, and headed for the coolest spot around—the
cornfield.
In the cornfield there were funny trails to follow
and small animals and snakes to track down.
With that thought in mind, the dog prodded Erin into the shadows. Erin had already tired of the great swing
and the slide. Even playing hide and
seek in the laundry as it gently swayed on the line had lost its appeal. So, when the dog begged Erin to follow her,
Erin eagerly advanced toward the towering stalks.
Just before the cornfield swallowed her up, Erin’s
mental alarm went off. She wasn’t
allowed in the cornfield. Mommy had
always been very stern about not going in the cornfield because of the snakes
and because Erin could get lost. Then
Erin thought, I won’t get lost. I can
find my way home; I have my doggy with me.
I’m not afraid. Then the shade
of the corn cooled her, shielded her.
There was the briefest of rustling and she was gone.
It was another world. The rows crisscrossed as they frolicked, running and
shouting. Out of breath, plopped down
on the dirt to catch her breath. Her
dog, it seemed had found a rabbit to race after leaving Erin on her own.
From where she sat, all she could see was the brown
of the earth beneath her and everything else was the green of the corn. North, South, East, West, and especially,
skyward, there was nothing but green.
There was a bite, like a mosquito, of worry, that even when brushed away
continues to bother in an annoying way.
I’ve done something wrong, thought Erin. I did something Mommy will be mad over. I left the safety of my own yard where I
belonged. This field belongs to the
farmer. Will he be mad at me, she wondered. Are there snakes in here like Mommy
said? Where is my dog? Am I lost?
Which way should I go to get home before something bad happens?
Erin’s heart began the thump faster as her worry
turned to fear. She wanted to holler
for her mother to come and get her, but she was more afraid of being found
someplace she wasn’t supposed to be.
Erin wasn’t sure which was worse.
Try to stay calm, Erin told herself with a smile
knowing that it was a grownup thing to do.
If I can find my own way home, then maybe Mom won’t find out. The big question was, which way to go? It was time to think really hard.
Her daddy had explained to her about the points on a
compass. There was North, South, East,
and West. He had told her that all
explorers had used a compass or something very like one to find their way
around. Erin remembered the afternoon
well. They had been standing behind the
house as Daddy pointed the different directions. The back of their house was North, the front of the house was
South, their neighbors were to the East, and the cornfield was to the West. So, Erin knew she was West of the house, but
how did that fit in? She knew it was
important, but not quite sure how to make it work for her.
Erin felt frustration rise up in her. What good was knowing about the different
directions if you couldn’t figure out where you were? And, how was knowing where you were supposed to get her
home? She was getting mad. Getting mad was better than being afraid,
but a memory her mother’s constant reminder popped up in her head. Getting mad makes things harder. Erin knew that she never learned anything
when she was mad. Tugging harder on her
imaginary thinking cap, she took a deep breath and tried again.
Her imagination floated her away. A picture of the field where she sat lay
below her. Oh, she thought, the rows of
corn run East to West, or is it West to East?
Again, it seemed not to be the answer she was looking for. One direction would take her far away from
home, the other right into her backyard.
The cool shade of the cornfield grew darker. It wasn’t time for the sun to drop yet
thought Erin, until she heard a distant rumble. This time, it wasn’t like a mosquito bite, but a wasp’s sting of
fear stung her into a panic. I have to
get home now!
The only thing Erin has ever really been afraid of
was thunderstorms. She could face
giants, or really big growling adults with little concern. Big, ugly, menacing dogs became instant
friends with her. No, Erin knew only
one fear and it was a thunderstorm.
In a snap, she was listening as alertly as her dog
knew how too. The road that ran in
front of her house was South, hearing the cars pass by, she faced it. Okay, if I’m facing South, then East is to
my left! East is home! Turning, she ran as fast as her 6 year-old
legs could carry her.
Right behind her as she broke through the stalks and
into her back yard was her dog running and pushing her homeward. There was a flash, and Erin ran right into
her mother’s arms. The thunder roared
as they ran into the house.
For once, Erin wasn’t worried about the storm
outside. There was one right in the
house, on her mother’s face. Her mother
was mad, but she was also close to tears.
Erin could tell. It scared her.
Knowing that she scared her mother, Erin tried to
explain how it had all happened and, most importantly, how she had learned her
way home. Erin’s mother wasn’t
listening, she was trying to stay calm herself. Finally, after the tears had dried, both hers and her mother’s,
Erin told her mother the story.
Even though Erin was in trouble and had a punishment
of an early bedtime, she knew that she’d learned two good lessons. One, to stay calm and think things out, and
two, to always listen to her mother.