Arising, I breathed deeply, filling my whole being with the' beauty of my new surroundings. With a mounting sense of adventure I walked, jogged, then ran through this lovely wooded park. Running had always seemed to me the ultimate in physical freedom. Now I ran on and on with no sense of tiring, enjoying the soft earth under my flying bare feet.

Suddenly I was in a small clearing surrounding a natural fountain.

Swerving to avoid it, I stopped so suddenly that I almost lost my footing.

Tears of joy blurred my vision as I gazed with amazement at my legs-both of them!

Four years ago, in Vietnam, I had lost my right leg, and I had hobbled around on an artificial one ever since, unable to experience the exhilaration of running.

How had my leg returned?

Carefully examining my body, I realized that I hadn't seen it in such great shape since my undergraduate days on the football field. As an extremely active young man, I had had my share of scars, but nowhere was there even a trace of them.

I gave puzzled thanks for this new, apparently perfect, body.

As the morning sun topped the horizon I noticed the almost crystal clarity of the air. How long has it been, I thought, since I've seen a sky so clear and breathed air so fragrantly fresh?

Where could I possibly be? I had gone to sleep last night in Upper Manhattan in a one-bedroom walk-up which I share with my best friend, my stepbrother, Karl Johnson. But I had certainly awakened somewhere else.

Was I dreaming? Would I soon awaken back in my one legged body?

I looked about me eager to fill my eyes before this beautiful new world might suddenly dissolve into an evanescent dream.

A covey of birds startled me as they took noisily to the air. Contemplating their direction, I wondered what season this was. I had gone to sleep on a cold January night, but I had obviously awakened in some other time or place, for it was certainly not winter here.