Walking down this ancient forest path with silent footsteps touching the ground, my heart reaches out for memories of the years gone by. In silent contemplation I watch a lifetime in slow review. This path I travel now held the footsteps of those I love gone before. I watch when as a child, I would run to start down the path and when cresting the little hill and the safety of home was out of sight I would dare to go no further and run back down the path until I saw the house again. Then as I grew I would venture further and further down the path exploring life, but always knew I could retrace my footsteps and find my way home. Each time I would crest that little hill and see the old farmhouse standing there silently welcoming me home my heart filled with relief. The paths of my life have taken many turns, but always the core of my heart longs to see and travels back to the safety of home. Watching brothers, sisters, cousins, all running, tumbling to the ground with laughter in a field just off that path. I watch as my grandfather guides the team of horses drawing a sleigh that is giving me a ride down that path that leads far back in the woods to a sugar shack, where delicious maple syrup is made. I see my grandmother with aluminum berry pails strapped to a belt around her waist showing me how to pick blackberries along that path. My grandmother, whom while picking berries would share stories about the family and have such wonderful private talks with me. A walk hand in hand with a fiancee, before Viet Nam took him away. The tears streaming down a face filled with love and an embrace so tight as to never let go. Quiet walks in solitude, watching the leaves of fall float to the ground. Reminding me that in death there is life. Even though a tree looks barren in winter, there is still life and the leaves that were given up in the fall, nurture the life of the new in the spring. That old path has nurtured me in much the same way. My life is all along the path, from since before birth when my mother walked it, til today when my heart walks it. The memories along the way are little windows of beauty that I can open from time to time and remember all the love in my life. I also can view through those windows all the life that has been shared and love given to me. The pathways of my heart are rich with love. I am so thankful for the vignettes of memories along the old mountain path. Through all of lifes struggles the heart always rejoices at the sight of home and the safety of love found there. I hope on this Thanksgiving day your heart has a path to walk. I also hope that you can see all the love that surrounds you and be thankful for the moments that are given as such a wonderful gift in memories. Happy Thanksgiving from my heart to yours.