"I Can Make It!"

Featured in the Short Story Newsletter - November 6, 2008
Featured in the Drama Newsletter - February 5, 2009


My feet grope along the slippery path.  My hands probe the empty air, searching for some clue to show me the way.  Am I heading in the right direction?  Should I go to the left?  The right?  Does the trail go uphill?  Or down?  Carefully, I feel my way along.

Yes, yes, this seems right!  I quicken my pace.  Somewhere up ahead is home.  Is it near?  Or far?  Suddenly, I'm slipping, sliding.  My feet seem to go faster and faster as I struggle to regain my balance.  Then I'm falling.  Down.  Down.  My hands grasp at the air, searching for something solid to cling.

Sloppy, wet mud splatters all over me as I land.  Tears of frustration fill my unseeing eyes and flow down my upturned face.

“Daddy?  Daddy, where are you?”

“I'm here, Child.  Just a bit ahead of you.”

I reach out toward that loving voice.  “Oh, help me, Daddy.  Take my hand.”

“I'm sorry, my Precious, but I can't do that.”

“Oh, please.  I can't do it.”

“Yes, you can.  You must.  Come on, get up now.”

“But I don't know which way to go.”

“I know.  But you must learn.”

Wearily, I struggle to my feet.  If only I could see.  If only I could have one clear glimpse of the path, I could be more sure of my direction.  With hesitant steps, I move in the direction of his voice.  I must remember it clearly.

Brambles clutch at my clothes and I turn away.  A few more steps and they prick my searching hands from another direction.  Oh, how can I go on?

“Daddy, which way?”

“You're doing fine.  Come on.”

“Won't you help me?”

“I can't do more than I am.  You must learn, Love.  You must learn to find your own way.”

“But I can't!  I just don't know which way to go!”

“Just follow my voice.  It'll get easier as you go along.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure.  The more familiar you become with this path, the easier it'll be to follow it.”

“Okay, I'll try.”

“Good.  Come on then.”

I move on carefully, concentrating on my every step, and somehow it does seem easier.  My tensed muscles protest the constant strain.  Oh, how much farther?

“I'm so tired.  Daddy, may I rest. . . for just a minute?”

“Yes, but only a minute.  They're all waiting.”

It feels good to stop struggling, to pause and not worry if my next step will send me crashing down again.

“Daddy?  Will I ever make it?  Will I ever learn?”

“As long as you keep trying – really trying – you'll make it.  Just don't give up.”

I stand quietly, listening to the comforting sound of his voice.  A feeling of peace washes over me.  I just have to keep trying.  He believes I can do it – and so do I.  “I'm ready to go on now.”

Little by little, the path disappears beneath my shuffling feet.  Somewhere ahead is the warm glow of love and peace and rest.  Somewhere ahead is home.

He's there – somewhere ahead – watching me.  I can feel it.  He's there, smiling when I keep in the middle of the path, frowning a little when I get into the brambles, and watching compassionately when I stumble and fall.  He has confidence in me.  He believes I can do it - and so do I.  As long as he's there, guiding me with his voice, I can make it.