I could not see far. The haziness was thick all around me. All I knew was the path laid beneath my feet. Straight and narrow, but still firm nonetheless. A path walked upon by many others ahead and behind. I trod on.
As time went by I noticed a figure walking ahead of me. Not knowing who it was, I continued my pace knowing that slowly I would eventually catch up. I observed this figure as it grew closer and larger into view. "Ah ha!" It was you.
"Hey! I've seen you before. How have you been?" thus started our conversation. And for a time, we walked together, speaking, talking sharing and praying.
Then I thought, "Hey, this person would make a pretty good companion for the rest of this journey." But then I noticed, and then you said, that there's one more ahead of me, whose hands you'd like to hold.
So with a downcast heart, I walked ahead, but the mourning did not linger. For a breeze stirred up and blew a fresh wind. The haze around was lifted. At once I saw the wondrous truth of the world that now surrounds me.
We all walked upon an open plain, as wide as our eyes could contain. And there upon this widened plain, were paths all leading the same way. Straight paths such as these and much the same as the one I trod upon. The haze that covered for so long was the dust kicked up by travellers.
Then I saw that many walked the same way that I had gone. And then I saw that many had another hand to hold. This other thing that caught my eyes was that there were many there too, who walked alone eyes fixed ahead on the Cross that would lead us home.
"Farewell to you my friend," I bade with smile and hope. "May you find joy in those clasped hands. It was a joy that for awhile we shared."
For now I'll trod upon the path that runs parallel to hers. It's not that far away, just a shout, a call away. But upon this path that I now trod will be the hand I'll hold one day.