Dear God, at the quiet shore in the gray dawn, I arrange the rocks and branches. I brush away debris, and make all ready for those who may come later.
Who will happen by this place? What will they do? Will they recognize the care it received?
By then, Lord, let me have walked farther on, long gone. Let me leave no identifying mark. Let me seek no credit. Nor let me hide and peer from the bushes. Yea, let me forego, even, the smug satisfaction of seeing others’ enjoyment.
You moved me to make the way for them. Let me give thanks to you for the possibility that they may walk with more ease. Let me with gratitude move on to the next task.