The Goodness of the World

I had a rotten day last week. Every direction I turned, I seemed to face obstacles. I received a frustrating, unkind email. Conversations meant to bring consensus brought more complications. A driver yelled at me, swearing and cursing, after I made a minor traffic mistake. It was one of those days, a kind most of us have, when the world, and its inhabitants, don't seem very beautiful at all.

In fact, I headed into the woods for a hike with my children feeling like people in general were difficult and annoying. Things, even little things, seemed hard. I felt glad to be in the woods, away from traffic and emails and phone calls and relationships. The trees and the streams and the dirt path were a relief.

As the children skipped and frolicked with pure joy, I began to relax. Together we came around a bend in the river and stopped to throw stones into the water. After a few minutes, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, two younger men on the path. They were wearing sagging jeans and hooded sweatshirts and laughing. They were probably college age. I immediately felt uncomfortable. I wondered what they were doing in the woods. I figured they must have come in to smoke pot. They did not seem like the types to take a nature hike.

They got closer to us and I could hear their voices and almost continuous laughter. So much laughter, in fact, that I decided they must already be high, or perhaps drunk. While I didn't fear for our safety, I was eager to have them pass.

And the did. But first they smiled and said hello to all four of us. One said, "You've got the whole gang!" and gave another laugh. The laughs were feeling up the forest. Still, I was happy to have them walk on.

A few minutes later, we continued on our way and came to a place where, normally, when the river is low, you can cross by using stepping stones. With all the rain we had that week, it was no longer possible to forge the river that way. Instead, someone had put down a heavy branch. Crossing it was possible, but only just. I had a baby on my back in a hiker, a three year-old and a five-year old. I didn't want to fall in with Emmett on my back, and I wasn't sure my young daughter would be able to make the distance.

The four of us contemplated the route for a few moments. The young men, now on the other side, turned to see us.

"Hey," one of them said in a lilting, melodic voice. "Do you want some help?" And then the two men helped us all across the river.

What restored my heart that day was not, simply, the beauty of nature, but the beauty of those two human beings. They restored my faith in the goodness of people and so also in the goodness of the world. They returned my mind to a place of innocence--seeing the innocence of those around me. I was disappointed in my own initial suspicion of them, but I know sometimes it is hard to feel good about others, about the world. And yet, the goodness of the world remains present, close at hand, unexpected and joyful, just like those two men.

May you run into such goodness this week, in surprising form, and know it also as your own. This wonderful kindness surrounds us, carries us over the makeshift bridges, fills the forest with laughter and heals the suspicious heart. It is God moving in and through us and others, Love expressed, Love received.

--Rev. Sam Wilde