As the autumn mist moved up the river, the acrid, stale aroma of the swollen Missouri River soured the night. A thick wall of mosquitoes covered the rocky, winding path leading to the old house at the top of the hill. The combination of the smell of the river and the loud buzzing of the little biting insects surrounding my head reinforced my fear of meeting the enemy of my childhood fear face to face. I alone should face my fear and ask for an act of kindness and goodwill from a couple who had never received kindness or support from our community or myself. As a tough young boy, I feared nothing except the house on the hill and the people who lived there. They seemed distant and very unsociable. Throughout my life, these ghostly creatures remained anonymous and obscure. Their way of life seemed mysterious, almost occult. There were no signs of modernization. No running water, electricity or telephone services violated their property. Not even a mailbox testified to their existence in our little river town. Their dress was unusual and strange, as was their appearance. Their clothing appeared to be made of flannel, denim, and plain black cotton. The jet-black mane that flowed freely down the backs of the man and woman was not ordinary, but nothing about the couple on the hill seemed ordinary. The shrill cries of animals and the sounds of crushed metal echoed through the trees in strange movements. The hillside groaned with the sound of drums and unfamiliar vocalizations repetitively, which terrified me until late at night. The startling explosions of gunfire from the hillside always caused a feeling of panic, as if the gunshot was a warning aimed at me. Above...... middle of paper...... I knew nothing about it and am not willing to accept that there is more than one proper way to live. Although their lifestyle was far from the lifestyle of most, it was by far the life that suited them. I realized that material objects are just aging possessions that quickly lose their value and that many people spend their lives circling like hamsters in a cage; worrying about moving forward and “keeping up with the Joneses” and never taking the time to realize the value of life itself. As I turned 40, I made a personal decision to embrace diversity, confront and challenge situations that I am not in. I do not easily understand or share my experience of this new awakening with others. If the world as a whole could open its minds to new experiences and embrace the power of diversity, imagine what a wonderful world we would have..