The one less traveled

I used to think, "If you've seen one hiking trail, you've seen them all." And, for most of my life, this belief has kept me free of scary, bug-infested places like the woods, or local state parks. However, after hiking with my family at Devil's Fork, today, I no longer believe that all trails are the same.

Were there rocks, trees, fallen leaves, and lots and lots of dirt? Yes.

Did this path have tiny streams, babbling brooks, and man-made bridges for crossing them? Yes.

Did we trip over protruding tree roots, rest on rotting logs, and scream at the mere sight of ooey-gooey, creepy crawlies? You can bet your life on it.

So, what made this hike different?

 I chose to take notice.

I noticed one of our older boys, who spends most of his time yelling, "Stop!" "Leave me alone!" and "That's mine!" at the younger members of our family, share his chocolate candy bar. He meticulously broke of tiny, brown squares for the 3 youngest children in our group, without being asked, told, or begged to do so. This Hershey's bar was unlike any other bar, because this one cost our older son his precious, coveted, allowance money. This normally self-centered, teenage boy sacrificed something that was his, something he worked hard to be able to purchase, with 3 other people, knowing he would get nothing in return. He did this willingly, and without noticeable regret. What might seem like a small act of kindness (let's face it, 3 small squares of chocolate really isn't a lot, compared to the whole bar) was a miraculous display of selflessness, and I was truly in awe.

I noticed how much my daughter reminds me of her Auntie Vanessa, my husband's sister, as a little girl. With her makeshift walking stick in hand, Kaylee lead our pack down the trail, making sure to point out the white paint marks reminding us that we were on the right track. Long, brown ponytail swaying in the wind, Kaylee was a picture of the utmost confidence and bravery as she charged ahead toward the nearby lake, at the end of the path. She was my "Little Adventure Girl," today, as she waded into the nearby lake, completely unphased by the fact that she was surrounded by boys on all sides.

I noticed that my son's level of compassion and concern for others far outweighs that of any other 4-year-old I have ever known. Upon attempting to climb a steep incline with a very large ravine on one side, this conversation took place:

Me: Christopher, let me get on that side of you, because I don't want you to slip and fall down the big hill.

Christopher: Mommy, I don't want you to fall down, either.

Me: Well, how about we hold hands and keep each other safe.

Christopher (quickly grabbing my hand and squeezing it tightly): That's a great idea because that will be sad if we fall down and get squished.

I noticed how much credit my husband deserves for coming along on trips like these. He could be like other dads who spend their afternoons working, watching TV, playing on their computers, or perfecting their golf swings. Instead, mine helps pack the cooler, snap seat belts, and drives our van-load full of crazy kids to the woods for some afternoon, family fun. Instead of parking himself on a nearby picnic bench, my husband demonstrated how to skip rocks, pointed out interesting sites along our hiking trail, and even repeated, "Slow down," "Look out," and "Be careful" at least 2,000 times during our trip, in an attempt to keep the bruises, bumps, and encounters with those dreaded creepy crawlies to a minimum.

I noticed how, when all was said and done, everyone agreed that their favorite part of the day was, "Everything we did," though all of our foster boys previously complained about having to spend the afternoon in the woods. They even had a blast prying rocks from the sandy banks and throwing them over, and over, and over into the lake. It doesn't take much to show them a good time or keep them entertained!

I also noticed something about myself. Though I was worn and tired from working muscles I didn't know I had until today, I realized that I enjoy being outside. I really, really like to hike and will probably make plans to do it as often as I can before the weather gets too hot. Not because I like dirt. Not because I "feel one with nature." And not even because it beats being cooped up inside all day. I like being outside, and even hiking, because my family is with me.

And when my family is around, I take notice.