Journeying

It is early on Sunday morning. The grey sky, heavy with clouds, is only just starting to reveal the waking world. Trees are still silhouetted, almost black, as their branches wave in the wind.

Beneath the window, a horse grazes in the field. Is it the same Shire colt that, yesterday, threatened to bite a Sister who tried to clean its sticky eye? A few months ago, it was a small foal. Already, much grown, it is larger and considerably heavier, than many an adult pony. Yet its silly little tail is still that of a baby. One day soon, perhaps, it will be lovingly and colourfully plaited, the dusty coat groomed, the untidy mane carefully combed and entwined with bright ribbons for an excursion to the showground and the gaze of admirers, gathered around the perimeter of an arena to see the once commonplace gentle giants.

Yesterday, a very different but rather frightened child found itself led through the small town of Godalming. It is just not the sort of town that expects to witness a bullock in its streets. People stopped and stared at its frazzled female companion as she held the halter and tried hard to keep the animal on the road rather than in the shops. The heavy black animal did not like the shops, the traffic or the 16th century, black and white buildings that form the centre of the town. Its owner was also unhappy at having to take responsibility for the beast, appearing increasingly worried as the minutes passed by. Who was she? What was the story behind the unfamiliar journey? Where did they begin ad where would they end?

We all have our own journey. Mine from Rome to England has already passed into history (except for the mountain of not-yet unpacked luggage which must, somehow, accompany me to London on Tuesday).

Who is with us on our travels? Do they bring us happiness or pain? What effect does my presence have on others? Am I able to bring joy into their lives?

Someone once wrote:
“Do not walk ahead of me: I might not follow.
Do not follow me: I might not lead.
Just walk beside me and be my friend.”

God bless,
Sr. Janet