Lost

I kept walking even after the trail gradually faded away. It was cold and I had forgotten to bring a coat, but I ignored the chilliness and pressed on. I was aware of the famous sameness of all these trees and of the complete lack of any unique landmark. But still I pressed on. I came to a stream with no convenient rocks to pass over, but I didn't have time to go searching along its edge for a dry way to cross, so I stepped in and ignored the sloshing of the water in my socks as I came out and kept walking. As I moved, the adrenaline of exercise began to wear off and my muscles started to ache, every part of my body begging me to stop walking. When I was six, I had gone hiking with my dad for the first time and after walking for about five minutes, I started to complain. After about ten minutes, I was crying and begging my father to let us go back. Since then, I had hiked so many times and so many long distances that ten miles felt like walking down the driveway to get the mail. So this aching feeling came as a surprise to me, and I began to realize for the first time how far I had walked, and how long it would take to get back, even if I was able find the trail again, which I now seriously doubted would happen. I stopped walking for a moment and sat down, running my hands through my hair. I was exhausted and it was getting dark and I really was cold, the hairs on my arms standing up, but none of this seemed to matter. All that seemed important was moving. Even as my body cried, longing for me to stop, my heart and my mind told me don’t stop, don’t stop, keep going. I put my head between my legs and tried to force some sense into myself, tried to convince myself that walking even farther away from the path was a bad decision. But the weaker part of me asked: what good would turning around do now? It was dark and I was lost. I would never find the path either way. So I got up and kept walking. When it started to rain, I closed my eyes and yelled at myself internally. As I lay on the ground, freezing, I finally told myself what an idiot I was being. But then, just as I was about to close my eyes and give in to sleep, I heard that sound. My eyes shot open and my heart started pounding in my chest, harder even than when I had first leapt out of my car and into the woods so many hours ago. I felt warm water on my cheeks as I stood up and moved towards the sound. And there, finally, there he was. My father, laying on the ground, moaning. And I sat down and put his head in my lap, thanking the Lord for letting me find him.

© 2011