The Path That Is My Life

When I was a little girl - I was often lonely, as some girls are.

I never quite fit in.


I wondered if I would find my way.


I always felt as though I was on my right path, but ... I often walked alone.


When I grew up ... I looked back and I realized that it was not a winding road.


It was as if I could look down a long straight tunnel and I could see clearly who that girl was and where she was going.


She seldom veered off the trail that would lead her into her life.


She kept her eyes on the light at the end of that lonely tunnel and she constantly moved towards it.


I don't know if this is how it is for every young girl, but I am grateful for the choices this young girl made.


Grateful for her strength.


For her focus.


For the drive that pushed that little girl to where she ended up in her life.


I am grateful that she was smart and stubborn.


That she was determined and ambitious.


That she learned to persevere through turmoil and pain.


I am thankful for that path and that she was wise enough to keep on it and push herself towards the end.


I am no longer that little girl, but ...


I remain on that right path and while the end is far out in front of me ... I see it clearly.


Just as I always have ...


I see it clearly.


And ...


I no longer see the past as a tunnel, but more as a funnel that has delivered me to where I am.


I have not always made the right choices and I know there will be many wrong ones still to come.


What I do know is this ...


I am proud of that little girl ...


I am amazed by where she has led me ...


I am thankful she held my hand ...


And ...


I am no longer alone.


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When I would visit my grandmother up on Herman Street - I would pick apples from the tree in the side yard. I'd gather those apples up and run quickly to the front porch and dump them in a pile on the swing. I'd run into the house for a shaker of salt and then race back out to the porch, find me a spot on the floor or banister and spend the afternoon eating salted apples and watching the world go by.

In my life ... I have often said, "We have come a long way since Herman Street," and we have - I have. I still love salted apples and all the memories that were made up in that old house with family and loved ones. I also love that when I look back at my life - down the long road - I can see Herman Street as clearly as it is in this photo. It is a part of who I was and it is a part of who I am.

Herman Street is just one of many streets I have traveled on in the path that is my life - but ... in many ways, it is where it all started and in many ways ... it is where I still go.

Lately, I have been there ... if only briefly ... to remember the view from ... the beginning of my life.