It was a cold spring morning. A light snow had fallen during the night. You know, the kind that just covers the grass. I was visiting my grandmother and grandfather on their farm. It was still very early when Pap Pap and I started across a field to check a fence. Being the curious type, I first had to run down to the creek to see if it had frozen during the night. Then, as I started back across the field, I noticed a spot where a deer had bedded down for the night, and I just had to check that out, too.
When I’d satisfied my curiosity, I headed back toward Pap Pap. I could see that he hadn’t reached the fence yet, so I still had time to look for more arrowheads to add to my collection before sprinting to the fence just before Pap Pap got there.
Pap Pap stood there for a few minutes, then told me to look back across the field at our two paths, which were very visible in the new snow. There was his, straight as an arrow from the barn to the fence. My path was scattered here and there—going first to the stream, then to where the deer had bedded down, then all across the field looking for those arrowheads. He asked me, “Which path was the correct one?” When I said, “I don’t know,” he replied, “Both are. Mine is surely faster and easier, but I didn’t get to see the things that you saw. Remember, you always have a goal, just as we did in getting to the fence today, but sometimes, if you can, take the time to explore the wonders of life.”
