Words of Light and Hope from Helena Crockford

Words of Light and Hope from Helena Crockford

Glacier                                                                                                               

Standing, looking down on Salmon Glacier, I was overwhelmed by the dignity and solemnity of the mountains, the icy calmness and steadfast purpose of the glaciers. I felt a sense of wonder and awe at the beauty of it all, beauty that hid the tortuous grinding and tearing that was hidden underneath. The glaciers showed gaping wounds, fissures, where they were being torn apart. The glaciers’ wounds allowed the ice to show the world its true colour, a beautiful turquoise blue. I could imagine the ice saying, ‘Look, this is who I really am, see me in all my glory’. My world had been torn apart. I was not able to say, ‘Look this is who I really am’ – yet – but I was starting on a journey to discover who this new me could be. There would be many problems on the way – as in the journey down the mountain. The truck blew a tyre in the ‘Avalanche, DO NOT STOP’ zone where the grizzly bears crossed the road. The spare wheel mechanism was jammed and it was raining heavily. On reaching the    border, they were not going to let me cross as I didn’t have my passport, they had let me out of Canada but were not wanting to let me back in. 9pm saw us walking through the deserted street of a frontier town, wet, cold and homeless. We couldn’t camp because the camp site was flooded. But everything we needed was provided. A Toaster Museum offered us a warm bed and hot bath, a restaurant that had closed, reopened at 10pm to make us a delicious meal. I didn’t know where life was leading but I would now travel with hope.

If these stones could speak,                                                                                                                                                                                                       What tales would they tell?                                                                                                                                                                                                    Would they hold forth about gentle tides and fierce winds?                                                                                                                                                   Or whisper stories of human goodness and common frailty                                                                                                                                (Lindisfarne, Mary, Mark & Aurian Fleeson)