The light at the end of the Tunnel

I saw this picture on my Facebook feed yesterday, courtesy of Sonjia Galloway, and it inspired memories of my childhood. This is the tunnel at Chirk, it is long, damp and dark. When I was little, it was a regular spot for family walks, usually on a Sunday afternoon. We'd park a little way up in the car park, then walk across the aqueduct- which I never found too scary, though it was high. I quite liked looking down on the tiny sheep dotted in the field below. Then it was time for the tunnel. It opened like a large dark mouth, swallowing up the grey water and the light with it. It made me stop in my toddling tracks, and gaze in awe. The tunnel. It was so long and dark and wet, it echoed, and as my siblings bellowed and squealed, the silence became full of frightening sounds. Most of the time we'd take a torch, and as long as one of my sisters didn't run off with it, it lit up the little path, and for the most part there was a hand rail running alongside. We'd walk for what seemed like hours, and then eventually we'd be bathed in the cool Welsh sunlight once again. 

I think life trials can be a bit like that, like walking along a narrow bumpy path  through a dark, damp tunnel. Sometimes there are scary noises, sometimes the dank water drips right down your neck. And at times, it can be pitch black. You feel like it's never going to end, and you freeze; feet stuck to the ground, can't go forwards, can't go back. Can't see the light because you're so scared you have your eyes closed. Open your eyes. Focus on that tiny splinter of light, far away in the distance. Get up, stand tall, and just take one step. The path will hold under your feet, and if you keep putting one foot forward, you'll get there. The light will get brighter and bigger as you walk, closer and closer to the exit. The handrail; your friends and family, those who support you, will guide you forward, making sure you are secure and safe. And when you take that glorious step out into the sunshine, treasure it. Let it bathe you in its warmth, it's beautiful warmth. You might want to run or dance or sing in the light, because you've been stuck in the dark for so long. And you never know, around the next bend there might be another tunnel, but you know you can get through it, because you've been through the last one. You can turn back, and shout to the others still in the tunnel, that it's okay because there's a way through, and they'll get through too.

So, have hope, have faith, there is light at the end of the tunnel.

© Alice Daley 2013