Authors: Annie Wald
“Three weeks, maybe more.”
“Three weeks? Just talking about them?” Peter asked. “Thank you all the same, but we’ve lost a lot of time in the swamp, and we really must be on our way.”
Celeste, alarmed at the prospect of giving up her childhood treasures, didn’t argue.
“I am sorry for you,” Truth said, “for these burdens will not become lighter. You need to get rid of them if you want to walk more nimbly on your journey. But if you will not wait for me to deal with all of them, at least pick out a few things for the junk pile—the heaviest and ugliest burdens, I suggest.”
So before Peter and Celeste went on, they sorted through their bags. As they spoke the truth in love to one another, they were each able to leave behind a few treasures. They continued making their way through the swamp. They discovered that with lighter bags they didn’t sink down as much, and they had more energy to help each other. When Peter saw Celeste shivering, he took his sheepskin of
humility and put it around her. And Celeste went back to singing as she walked, often choosing Peter’s favorite songs.
Eventually they left the swamp behind them and followed a path into a deep forest of tall oaks, maples, and elms. They could no longer see the Mountains of Maturity that had towered over the swamp, and they hoped the path would lead them away from it. Some days they had time to explore the other paths that laced through the woods like they used to when they first met in the grove. They kicked pebbles and hunted for berries and often stopped to read the guidebook together. Celeste was encouraged that Peter had not turned away when Truth held up her hurting stones, and she was growing more secure in his love. Celeste thought she would be willing to give up any hope of seeing another glimpse of the King’s City again if only she and Peter could walk on like this.
One night by the fire, they sang a song from the guidebook to celebrate making it through the swamp:
I called to the King for help,
and He turned to me and heard my cry.
He pulled me out of the slimy pit of despair,
out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
and steadied me as I walked along.
When they finished, Celeste turned to Peter. “Will you walk on with me?”
Peter took her hand and thought how she looked more beautiful than he remembered. The look of love had returned to his eyes and covered Celeste’s shortcomings. “Yes,” he said, “more than ever, I want to travel with you to the King’s City.”
In my dream, I saw that one day a little traveler joined Peter and Celeste, bringing them great joy. It was different than the joy of the chalice, but still rich and sweet. Peter and Celeste had no Cords of Commitment for the little traveler, but they didn’t need them because they loved her fiercely. They took turns holding her and rocking her and staying up all night with her without ever complaining. Without discussing it, they determined to do everything their parents had done right and nothing their parents had done wrong. They were certain their little traveler would feel so loved, she would never go through any difficulties or feel lonely or break any rules of the King.
During the day they carried the little traveler, talking and singing to her as they walked. In the evenings when the little traveler was asleep, Peter and Celeste often talked about the future.
“We have to stop and reconsider our journey now that we have a little traveler,” Peter said. “It is a big responsibility to care for her, and we need to look very carefully at the map. I want to make sure we don’t go through any more swamps. It wouldn’t do to have her exposed to the dirt and mosquitoes and leeches.”
“And I don’t want to get stuck in the sand dunes. It would be too hot and too dry for her.”
“I’ll have to work harder to look for the best food,” Peter said. “I may have to go away from time to time, if I can’t find some close to the path.”
“Maybe we can read the guidebook together as a family every night by the fire. I don’t have as much time to spend with the King as I used to.”
“Or to drink from the chalice,” Peter said.
“I know, but that will change once the little traveler gets older.”
Peter always carried the map, and whenever they needed to decide which way to go he would spread it on the ground so Celeste could look too. Then they would discuss the pros and cons of each choice. But after a time, perhaps because of the little traveler or perhaps because they were still close to the great Swamp of Selfishness, Celeste became more critical of the paths Peter wanted to take. Sometimes she mocked his choice or just smirked at him. Other times she would dig in her heels and insist on her way, talking so fast and with such elaborate arguments that Peter didn’t have any chance to defend his preference.
Then one day the path led them down a short incline. At the bottom it stopped at a large pond surrounded by rocks, for it had once been a quarry. Peter took out his compass and put the map on the ground in front of them. “This is interesting,” he said. “The map isn’t very detailed here—it doesn’t show this dead end or the
pond. In fact it shows the path going straight across where the pond is.”
“That’s impossible,” Celeste said. “Let me look.” Peter showed her the map, and she became quiet for a moment. “I wish you had asked for a more up-to-date map. I really don’t want us to make a bad choice here. The little traveler is getting grumpy, and I want to reach the next campsite so we can all have a good rest.” She peered at the map, then got up. “There must be a path somewhere.”
“Wait a minute. Let me take a reading on my compass.”
“You and your equipment. We don’t need a compass. We just have to go around the water. I don’t know whose idea it was to put a pond right in the middle of the way to the King’s City.”
Peter held out his compass. “Well, we want to go straight across the pond.”
“Maybe we could try walking on the water?” Celeste said with sarcasm.
“Actually, that’s a good idea. We could build a boat. There might be a path on the other side.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Celeste, we don’t know how long it will take to go around the pond, and we don’t even know if there’s a path. You said yourself that you want to get to the next campsite as soon as possible.”
“Yes, but the idea of building a boat is ridiculous.”
“No, I think it’s the right solution. We don’t have to spend too much time on it. It will be a raft more than a boat—just sturdy enough to float us to the other side.” He got out his binoculars and looked across the water. “Yes, I see an opening in the rocks. Building a boat is exactly what we need to do.”
“No. We need to find a way around the pond.”
Peter started looking for small tree trunks and dragged what he found to the water’s edge. “Can you search over there?” He pointed to the hill they had just come down.
“I told you I don’t want to do this. We have to find a path.”
“It won’t take long to build the raft.”
“Have you ever made one?”
“Yes, I have. Soon after I left Upright Village, I made one to cross a river.”
“Did it float?”
“Celeste, that’s not a very kind question. But yes, it did.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Peter sat down.
“Why are you sitting down?”
“Because we have to work this out.”
“There’s nothing to work out. Let’s go explore.”
“I told you that a raft is the best way.”
“And I told you I’m not going to get on a raft.”
Peter sighed.
“Stop being so stubborn,” Celeste said.
“You’re the one who’s being stubborn.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Look,” Peter said, “this discussion isn’t going anywhere. Why don’t we break for lunch?”
They sat by the pond eating their sandwiches while the little traveler splashed at the edge of the water. Then they heard a commotion at the top of the incline. “Come on. I said, come on,” a woman shouted.
“No, I don’t think we should go that way,” a male traveler said.
“It doesn’t matter what you think.”
“Sounds like a teenager is giving his mother a real problem,” Celeste said. Soon the travelers reached the bottom of the incline. “Your son is quite a handful,” Celeste said to the woman.
“Son? What are you talking about? That’s my husband. He never listens.”
“Oh,” Celeste said. “Don’t you discuss which way to take?”
“Sure, but his ideas are always bad ones.” She went over to her partner, who was chatting with Peter. “Come on” she said, “we have to get going.
The man stopped in mid-sentence and turned to follow her.
No sooner had they left when another couple came up the path on the right. The woman seemed to be sleepwalking; the man had to pull her every step of the way. When they reached the intersection, the man stopped and the woman immediately stopped too.
“Where do you think we should go?” the man asked his partner.
“Wherever you say, dear,” she said as though dreaming.
“Should we swim across?”
“I don’t care. Whatever you want to do.”
“I want to know what you think.”
“I’m sure you can figure it out,” the woman said and then sat down, waiting for her husband to decide.
“We’re thinking of building a raft to go across the pond,” Peter told the man.
“Now that’s an idea,” the man said, then he shook his head. “No, that will never work with her. I have to drag her everywhere because she refuses to do anything herself. There’s no way I could build a raft, pull her onto it, and then push it across. That would take two people. I guess we’ll have to find a path, but if that’s a dead end, I don’t know what we’ll do. I’d hate to have to pull her back up that hill.”
Peter and Celeste finished their lunch. “Have you changed your mind?” Peter asked.
“No.”
“I’m not going to be able to build the raft by myself. We have to do it together.”
“It’s a silly idea, and I won’t do it.”
“All right, then we can set up camp here for the night.”
“I want to go look for a trail.”
“I’m not going to argue anymore. I’m going to set up camp and we can talk about it in the morning,” Peter said, remembering the lesson of the split path.
“You can do what you want; I’m going to search for a way around the pond.”
“With the little traveler?”
“I’m happy to leave her with you. It’s about time you took a turn taking care of her.”
So Celeste took off alone. Soon she was enjoying the break from caring for the little traveler. She found a path through the woods and followed it until it came to a rushing river. A log had been placed to cross over the water. Normally she could have walked across without any trouble. But her pack was still quite
heavy, and she was afraid she might lose her balance and fall into the water. As she looked to see if there was another way to cross, a guide on horseback drew up beside her.
Respect got off her horse, not looking pleased to see Celeste standing by the log. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to the King’s City.” Celeste wondered why the guide wasn’t being nicer to her.
“Where’s your partner?”
“I couldn’t convince him to take this path.”