You notice more things when you walk along a country road than you might if you were zipping along in a car. And you have more time to reflect on the things that you see. Things like a peculiar little path angling off through the autumn woods.
The path was distinct and well beaten down. It went across what was left of a fence, down and out of a small ditch, and into the shadows of the woods. It had to be more than just and animal of some sort. But it wasn’t cleared in a sophisticated kind of way either. There were lots of low branches.
Then it became obvious. The wiggly tire tracks of a bike was the clue. The path must have been the short cut to grandma’s house. Sure, why not? A safe and private little path from one road to another road or lane just behind the woods.
Probably used on those occasions when cookies or butter tarts beckoned, or when things at home had gotten boring.
Possibly a path on the way to some great adventure with a brother or sister. Something to remember when the inevitable question would be, “and what did you do today?”
A path is a part of any child’s education. The first of may trails, avenues or highways that may lead them to explore as far as any imagination. There are a lot of wanderers mentioned in the Old Testament. People like Abraham, whose childhood trails may have encouraged him to follow an inspired call to travel.
“Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you . . .” (Genesis 12:1).
Who knows where the road may lead when you start putting one foot in front of the other, or how far it may go . . .