The Final Bridge

As bridging season is upon us, I was reminded of the reason I started this blog in the first place. A few years ago, a local leader approached me requesting a letter for her girls. I hadn't been active with the troop, but some of the girls were students where I taught. They had been discouraged by a lack of support for their bridging to adulthood and needed words of encouragement to keep them active in the program. So I wrote a letter and this story.

THE FINAL BRIDGE

By Smitty

Margaret stared at the rickety bridge in front of her. As she debated whether to cross, the circumstances that brought her here came flooding back.

It began in a dark forest when she was just a girl. She was crying. Another girl asked, “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know the way and this forest is scary.”

“It’s not scary when you have the right friends. Come with me.”

A group of girls sat in a circle.  Margaret was introduced to their leader.

“My name is Daisy and I’ve got something for all of you girls,” the leader said. Daisy exuded a sense of adventure. She was like living laughter. Margaret had never been so excited.

“Together we will make plans, create our own adventures, learn about the world, and help make it a better place. You are in charge and I will help you,” said Daisy.

Margaret and the girls followed Daisy through the forest, all the while learning new fun things. They collected pinecones and made crafts with them. They sang silly songs and songs about friendship. They cleaned up litter. They showed lost hikers the way.

They arrived at an old wide covered bridge. “What’s over there?” asked Margaret.

“More exciting adventures,” said Daisy, “We’ll all cross together.” They held hands and sang songs as they skipped across the bridge.

Now they were older and the world they explored broadened. Daisy taught Margaret to tend the fire and cook. They collected food for those without and helped find homes for stray animals.  They became fast friends. It was a lovely time.

Eventually they reached a long narrow suspension bridge. “Buddy up,” said Daisy, “The bridge looks straight, but it is easy to get lost.” Some girls were scared and chose not to cross. Some girls lost themselves in other interesting paths off of the bridge and left the group. The bridge created new emotions and some girls left because they didn’t want to work through their differences. Margaret held her best friend’s hand tight and weathered the challenges. On the other side, they were a much smaller group.

Those who persevered enjoyed boundless adventures. They climbed mountains, built robots, and Margaret learned surfing. With Daisy’s help they created a park for younger children to enjoy.

A wild stream blocked their progress. but Margaret was confident now. “We’ll just build our own bridge,” she said. Daisy smiled as she watched the girls build. They barely needed her help. Again some girls chose to stay behind and Margaret found herself saying goodbye to old friends.

Daisy made the girls cross first. “I’ll stand by to keep you safe, and provide guidance and comfort when you need it, but you will be your own leaders now.”

As Daisy followed, the girls backpacked for days in the wilderness and explored faraway cities of the world. They learned to sail and fly. They built shelters for the homeless and installed nature signs in the forest. Margaret knew she could accomplish anything.

Until now. A small rope bridge stretched over the chasm. It was foggy, she couldn’t see where it ended.

“This is the final bridge, “ said Daisy. “ Each of you must cross it alone. If you choose not to cross now, it will always be here. It may present itself later. Perhaps you will see each other on the far side, perhaps not. But the other side is very special.”

Some girls had crossed eagerly, others scattered back away from the cliff. Margaret was left alone with Daisy.

“What are you going to do, Margaret?” asked Daisy.

“I want to stay with you. We’ve had such great adventures and I don’t want it to end,” said Margaret.

“It doesn’t have to. I can’t come with you, but I’ll be there,” said Daisy. “Have courage. You belong on the other side of that bridge.”

Margaret gave Daisy a hug and wiped away tears. She stepped softly onto the rope bridge. It swung under her weight. As she progressed into the fog, her confidence grew. Daisy faded behind her and she was alone. The fog gave way to a view of a forest. She stepped off the bridge into the forest. It felt comfortable. She was home.

As she hiked along a pathway, Margaret heard crying. A small girl was sitting on a rock. “Why are you crying?” Margaret asked.

“I don’t know the way,” said the girl.

Margaret wished that Daisy had crossed the bridge with her. Who will lead this girl through the forest? As the girl looked helplessly up at her, Margaret smiled. She wiped the girl’s tears. “My name’s Daisy and I’ve got something for you and for all the girls in the forest. Let’s go find them.” They skipped away together, like living laughter.