A Trail of Ayla
As we woke up to snow this morning my wife jumped into action assembling the kids’ snow gear so they could head outside when they woke up to enjoy it before it melted. She had most of it together but couldn’t find my daughter’s coat. After ten minutes of searching I asked if it was possible that she had left it outside the night before. We glanced out the window into the backyard and sure enough, there it was, covered in snow. Knowing our daughter this wasn’t a big surprise. She constantly leaves things laying around when she tires of them. There are four pairs of random shoes in the backyard, one pair of sandals in the front, mermaid dolls in the living room, shoes and coats strewn about by the doors, and a bedroom light that is almost never off. After sharing all of this with her mom who is staying with us, my wife said, “There’s just always a huge trail of Ayla.”
Great description. You can tell where Ayla’s been because of the trail of clothes, toys, and lights stuck in the on position. My wife’s comment stuck with me because I thought it was funny. Later this morning for some reason I began thinking about this idea in my own life. What kind of trail am I leaving behind? Not so much with things laying around the house (though I am guilty of that at times) but in life as a whole. Is the trail I leave one of compassion, joy, hope, laughter and love or one of angst, fear, sadness, and hurt. I’m going to think about that this week as I interact with people–to see what kind of trail I’m leaving behind.