Kindred Spirits

I asked God to give me at least one kindred spirit here on the island. Well, I’ve discovered something “kindred” in at least four young adults already—and unexpectedly in a blue-eyed, flaxen-haired girl. Our connection? Horses. Again and again God floors me with His blessings. Who am I that He would go all out? I am loved, that is all I know.

Today I snowshoed with two of my new friends. Ducking under snow-crusted evergreen boughs, chucking snowballs, gasping at the orange blaze of a fox, we wound our way through a tranquil treed segment in Charlottetown. Decked only in sweaters and light gloves, we found the blue day a perfect beginning to spring, often throwing our heads back to sigh in delight. I’ve been told, however, that it is the calm before the storm—as it is before every storm on this island. Consolation before desolation. Ah, well, enjoy the calm while it lasts, and then break out the hot drinks when the ice crystals descend to gust against the window panes. The approaching storm has not yet arrived, but soon. And I doubt it is the last.

We are all aching to know summer again—but I confess I do not mind having dropped into this faraway world while it is overflowing with snow. Because it means I will journey with these people from season to season, as the snow recedes, as the mud forms, as the grass grows green, as the flowers peep forth. And when we find ourselves skipping on a beach for the first time, we will share and understand each other’s joy.

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