We rode down the street on our bikes through the warm Houston days, and we ended up at the shopping center, looking for something to do. The city was different then; simpler. You could smell the salty Gulf in the distance, through the shade of the trees. We spent our time playing, never caring, coming home at dusk to the calls from our parents. Supper was at the table, or around the corner at the restaurant — didn’t matter where. It tasted good. It filled us up, warmed us through, and in those easy moments, we knew the world was ours, wide and welcoming.