My prayer path is the river.
I’m guessing it might be for many, for on my frequent walks along the river I see many folks contemplating the beauty of nature surrounding them. Perhaps like me, they are searching for serenity, a bridge over troubled waters in fraught filled times.
And so, it was no surprise when a kindred spirit stopped to say hello. A fast biker had just cleaved between us on the river’s wooden planked bridge, rattling our thoughts and our bodies.
“Well, hello!” I said.
“Hello,” she smiled, her silver hair gleaning in the light. “I’ve just dropped flowers into the river.”
Quickly, she crossed over to my side of the bridge and looked down into the water.
Puzzled, I didn’t think I’d heard her correctly.
“Come, I’d like to show you,” she said gesturing for me to look too.
Sure enough, under the bridge came a small flotilla of orange marigolds and red roses.
“I like to throw beautiful things into the river, not the garbage that so many do,” she explained.
I nodded in silent agreement as together we watched the flowers drift down stream.
“Yesterday, I made this flower mandala from my garden,” she continued. “By dropping the flowers off one side of the bridge, I am letting go of the past. By crossing over to the other side of the bridge I am opening a creative path to the future.”
“I love that,” I answered as she waved goodbye. “Thank-you so much for sharing that with me.”
Pondering this stranger’s wisdom, I lingered on the bridge a little longer, watching the river’s strong current carry a single orange blossom onward like a star of hope.
I’m Marnie O. Mamminga and that’s my Peace like a River perspective
