A Fellow Traveller

While walking through piles of dry crunchy leaves, I stopped to pick up a bright yellow maple leaf that seemed totally out of place. It was perfectly formed with no imperfections or blemishes, 'picture perfect' in so many ways. As I walked home with it, I felt like I had rescued it from the graveyard of that tree. But would admiring it bring it back to life? Had I noticed it before it's former beauty was only a memory? Would valuing it make any difference? As I walked in from school yesterday, I caught the end of a video on Oprah on the life of a boy who lived only 99 days. I saw 99 balloons released into the air for each day of a life that brought joy to his family. Tears came to my eyes as I realized the value placed on his life and the love that had surrounded him. Am I being selfish to want to hang on to all those that I love and cherish in my life? Maybe the saddest thing is a life that passes with no one to appreciate or value it. Although I have no control over

Last night I experienced the beauty of a full moon. My attention was captured by an intense spot of light on a dark kitchen floor as I walked in to turn on a light. It wasn't until I got down on my knees that I could see where it was coming from through the trees. I started my walk with a sense of anticipation. Living in the city of Welland, I walk by streetlight which has always seemed to be bright enough. But in comparison to the full moon, something is lacking. Even though electrical lights can brighten my path, there was a unique brilliance to the light that came from the moon. If that reflected light was so brilliant, what was the source like? I could only imagine, because I have never been able to look directly into the sun. I kept being drawn to the moonlight, especially as I walked into dark places. That's when I started to notice the shadows; from houses, trees and myself. Is moonlight always capable of producing defined shadows? When walking home, I noticed wispy

The first thing I do when I step outside to walk in the morning is to look at the sky. At this time of the year, I feel like it is still the middle of the night, even when my watch says 6 a.m. Today there were no sparkling stars and only a glimpse of the full moon of the night before. The clouds were only visible in the area around the moon. I hoped that by the time I came back, the moon would be shining brightly. At the halfway point, the brilliance of the moon became more exposed but I was still relying on artificial light. I started thinking of dark days and how we sometimes have to walk with only artificial light. Don't we really only need light for the next few steps that we take? Why do we expect to see the whole journey? Would it help us to see each bump ahead? Isn't it better to look up, knowing that behind the clouds is Light strong enough to illuminate any path? Even the reflected light of the moon is strong enough to illuminate, all because of the awesome li

How do you have a thankful heart when you get bad news? I walked into church Sunday morning and sat beside my mother. I heard her tell someone that she was finding it hard to be thankful when she had bad news....and then I heard the word 'cancer'. I wondered who she was talking about and that's when she broke down and told me about the recent words from the doctor,"There's nothing we can do." I put my arm around her and we talked until the service started. I encouraged her as best I could, knowing that she has been dealing with intense nerve pain for years from something else. This seemed different, more final and more impossible. Then the service began and the music began to flow all around me. As I sat there, my mind started to deal with the implications. I do not want to go down that road right now! I have enough to deal with in my own life with it's busyness and stresses. It was something I knew was inevitable, but why was this happening now? W