By Chance

 

By Chance

By John W. Vander Velden

 

A few weeks ago, we went hiking in the Hocking Hills area. We spent three days wandering the trails of the state park. But our final walking place was not in the park proper, but the adjacent, Conkle’s Hollow State Nature Preserve.

There are two trails at Conkle’s Hollow. One of which is a mile long at the bottom of canyon, with sheer cliffs on both sides. We first took the trail that ran the length of the gorge right down the middle. A very nearly flat mostly paved pathway along the stream, that had over the eons, cut the Black Hand Sandstone.

A light drizzle fell off and on as we wandered at our own pace admiring God’s creation. Had to scamper over and around some rocks for the best views of the two small waterfalls at the trail’s end.

It was one of the rare two-way trails of the area, and we spent an hour and a half, maybe a little more, among the trees in that canyon while being surrounded by those stone walls.

After a very quick lunch beneath the lifted hatch of our Jeep, as the rain continued, we prepared for the last trail on our list of things to do. The Conkle Ridge Trail. A two-and half-mile hike along the top of the canyon. A one-way horseshoe trail far above the canyon floor. The warning sign at the trail’s beginning was identical to the signs we had read on many of the others. It did not seem overly concerning.

A fine stairway of ninety steps, (I counted them), began the journey. Those stairs took us about two thirds of the way to the top. The remaining upward portion of was an earth covered trail. As we went, we would pause and allow those that had lived fewer seasons that we, to pass us. However, there was one younger couple who indicated they liked the pace we were taking and would continue in our wake.

Jackie and I enjoy hiking, we enjoy the outdoors, we enjoy seeing new places that reveal the magnificence of our God and creator. We didn’t particularly enjoy the rain. Past experiences had taught us to come prepared. You know, carry some water, wear the right equipment, such as hiking boots and rain jackets. We have hiking poles, so we began this trail confident in our abilities.

Tree roots. that have had the soil washed out from around them, are our bane. Rain makes them extremely slippery, so you need to watch each step. It made progress slow and tedious, but we had the time. And it would have been worth it, but even as the trail ran very near the edge of the precipice, seldom could see beyond the trees.

I became the designated leader, and kept us moving along the trails edge, furthest from death. For the path of soil, stone and thousands of tree roots was slippery. Yet our spirits were high as we wandered the way, slowly becoming acquainted with the couple that followed, sometime near, sometimes a bit further back. When we came to the bridge over the stream that leaped off the cliff and formed the waterfalls we had observed earlier, we paused for a few minutes. That area offered the best views of the canyon from above.

That bridge also meant we were halfway.

By that time my knees were planning a rebellion.

I have never taken a hike that I wished would be over―before. But the rain, the mud, and the uncertain footing, had ended the fun of this walk, by the time we had reached the bridge. So, I trudged on, helping Jackie navigate the wet stones and many of the other more difficult obstacles. But alas, I failed her, for she slipped on a particular set of roots, and found herself prone in the pathway. Bruised, but not broken, with her glasses and hiking pole bent, upset with herself for allowing that fool root to cause her crashing.

Fortunately, our new friends were right there, and that was our official meeting with Antony and Jill. Antony helped me get my beloved to her feet, while Jill, who had worked as a technician in an eye doctor’s office, straightened Jackie’s glasses and attempted to return the left lens back into the frame.

These wonderful folks helped us finish the hike, for what waited at the conclusion, was a difficult decent, not of stairs as on other trails, but a series of worn stone slabs eighteen or more inches thick that you needed to crawl/slide down.

Some may say that it was by chance, that Antony and Jill happened to walk the trail that rainy afternoon. That by chance, they were willing to follow an older couple on difficult trail. That by chance, they were with us at the very moment, Jackie fell.

By chance?

I don’t think so…

(824 Words) 5-27-2023

           

Point of Commonality

 

A Point of Commonality

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Each of us are individuals, unique in many ways. That uniqueness makes the mass of humanity so amazing. For it might seem impossible that billions of people are all different in one way or another, but we are. But it is those differences that give depth to what we call the human race. The world is made richer by the contrasts, for each of us adds a bit of color to the canvas that makes up our world.

And yet, even with all our differences, we share at least one point of commonality.

For whatever your gender, whatever your ethic heritage, whatever pigment makes up your skin, whatever geological area you find yourself, whatever measuring stick can be used to distinguish one from another, there are things we have in common.

And among the things we share is a simple fact…we have or had a mother.

In the United States we designate this coming Sunday as Mother’s Day. It is a day that can evoke a wide range of emotions. Emotions of those that are mothers, and those that for reasons, sometimes painful reasons, are not.

And yet we have all been born and therefore have that common connection to every other person on this planet. Though I know it is not true in this imperfect world, that each of us has had a wonderful mom, yet we should take a few moments to recognize our mother. To consider how our lives were shaped, hopefully for the good, by the woman that helped to raise us.

To me that is the real reason for Mother’s Day. To take some time out of lives and reflect, to remember, and to try, as best we can, to understand our moms.

 So, I look back and consider the woman that was only twenty-three when she married. World II was part of the recent past, too close a memory, for someone that grew up in an occupied country. To that point her whole life had been one of limited resources…the depression…the war…the aftermath of war’s destruction. I try to imagine her as a young woman with hopes and dreams, for surely, she had them. But my memories of mom begin later. I was after all the second born, and my mom was a wife of four and half years at my arrival, and my conscious recollections certainly do not reach back that far.

But I do remember clearly the mother of four, a few years before my youngest brother joined the brood. I remember the years that followed, of the moves, and the restarting of our lives. I remember times of her frustration, for often our lives included difficulties and setbacks. But if there is one thing I remember most clearly, from all those years, it would be sacrifice, and the understanding that it was only through sacrifice that the impossible might be achieved.

Mom did without. And at the time I did not notice just how much she was so willing to sacrifice, and just how many years she did. But what an important lesson I learned from that example. You see I could have gone in two very different directions. I could have had an unquenchable desire for all the things I felt denied. Or I could have seen, that only through hard work and doing without, greater things could be possible.

Knowing there never was a guarantee of success.

But the years of watching both my parents, seeing the team they made, how they worked as equals, sacrificed as equals, I learned to look further down the road. To see the possible achievements in the future.

So, I understand I received more from my mom than the color of my eyes. I carry a small share of her determination…as well as optimism that in the end things will work out for the good.

This Sunday I will think about my parents, and especially my mom. And I will thank God for her, my point of commonality with all others.

I love you mom and I know that God, through his grace, has given you the rest you have so dutifully earned…much more, the rest you deserve.

5-12-2023 (711 Words)