Last month my family and I took a “mini” vacation to Bath County. We enjoyed a couple of snowy days in the mountains, and we were blessed to be able to spend much of that time outside. One of the highlights of our trip was a hike with seven other people who were also visiting that beautiful corner of Virginia. It may be widely known, but Bath County is one of the only counties in Virginia without a traffic light. It is made up largely by the George Washington National Forest, and the unspoiled wilderness close to the West Virginia state line is a wonderful place.
Our hike was up through the gorge following a stream that was fed by a hot spring that cascades between two high ridges. A van dropped us off deep in the forest, and we followed our guide, crisscrossing back and forth over the stream that cut its way through the landscape. Our guide pointed out the many native and unique plants and trees, he explained the formation of the Alleghany Mountains, and he showed us many ocean fossils in the plates of mountain rock that one time were ocean floor. He spoke strongly in favor of conservation, he found beauty in places that were not first apparent to his hikers, and he even taught me how to make a great whistle out of an acorn cap.
Our guide also told many stories about his life. Brian was in his 50’s (I would guess), he was born in Upstate New York to a Native American father and French Canadian mother. He openly talked about his faith story and spiritual life, a mixture of Catholicism and Native-American Spirituality.
I was most interested in the story he told about when his family moved from Upstate New York to the Virginia Mountains. Brian was a young teenager, bi-racial, a “northerner,” and carrying a northern accent mixed with Canadian words and colloquialisms. His classmates at school told him that he didn’t “belong here,” and he could think of a hundred reasons he was right. He was miserable, and his family knew it. One summer morning he had gone with his dad to the local grocery store, a morning that he had been exceptionally mopey. His dad took him by the arm, walked him around behind their pickup truck in the parking lot. His dad pointed down to a dandelion that had grown up through the asphalt. That little flower was all alone in the middle of a sea of black pavement. His dad pointed to the flower and told him that sometimes we are planted in and grow up in a place we would never choose. But, you have to be strong, and remember that you are planted there for a reason.
Brian’s struggles didn’t immediately go away, but he began to see that God (or the Great Spirit as he would say) did plant him in that place for a reason. And over time, his life began to flourish in Bath County and western Virginia.
I was happy for my daughters to hear this story, because it is not easy being a teenager. At times teenagers find themselves in tough situations and must be strong and find meaning where it is not apparent. But the message is also true for adults, for me. God puts us in places for reasons we may never understand, and our calling is to be faithful, be strong, and look for ways to be God’s salt and light. Even when we are as alone as that lone dandelion in the middle of the asphalt parking lot.
Brian was a great tour guide, a knowledgeable naturalist, and a superb storyteller. It is amazing that when we keep our ears open we can hear many voices, including Gods