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The Old Red Trail

The Old Red Trail

It has been said that walking the righteous path is like walking in a big circle. There is no specific destination, but rather it is the journey that inspires us. The way it was explained to me was that we’re all walking down this red road together, on the beaten moccasin trail. Some old, some

It has been said that walking the righteous path is like walking in a big circle. There is no specific destination, but rather it is the journey that inspires us.

The way it was explained to me was that we’re all walking down this red road together, on the beaten moccasin trail. Some old, some young but all headed in the same direction.

In the front will emerge natural leaders clearing the path of any debris that may cause the others to lose their footing. Pushing aside these sticks and stones gives the others time catch up.

Those in the back are usually slower and follow the crowd never really knowing what obstacles had obstructed their path. Sometimes they are too slow and they need to be waited upon.

Without proper guidance they may be lead astray into the thick brush where prickly ash and poison ivy lay waiting. That is why the greater body of people in the middle must bridge the gap between the front and the back and essentially tie them together.

This delicate balance is maintained by never walking faster then the slowest in the group. At times it may seem like the tail is slowing down the head and body, but from the eagles view, it is the head that makes the tail follow along, for without the body the two would not be connected.

It’s easy to get caught up in saplings and webs when one veers from the path. To the left is the inner circle and to the right is the outside. Many times along the way people will be enticed to create a new path. Some get lost, some are never seen again.

Those who go left will eventually end up back on the path sometimes in the lead scouting the way, but those who go to the right can only be called back by the distant chants and echoes of the path walkers. Some are so far gone that they forget they were ever in the group. They make camp and on the next lap it is their children that hear the old chants of the ancestors and return to the path.

Along the path will be many camps, most overgrown, but there will always be shelter. When night approaches, the group will band together replenishing their energy and spirits.

In the fire shall be a clay pot filled with soup that will never empty no matter how many bowls it fills. In this pot is the knowledge of the ancestors. It is what will keep the pack moving at daybreak and what will provide sustenance for the long journey ahead.

So remember the words of the old ones when you walk that road, for one day you maybe the one who hears the chanting and returns to the path.

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