“My new friend, Ginny Merritt, saw a cross that made an impact on her. She’d like to share her story below. (If you have a cross picture and/or story, please let me know!) Here’s Ginny:
Along the Erie Canal in central New York is a town called Clyde. My husband and I have a fix-it-up-house there. On a recent work-visit, I asked my son to remind me how to get to a nearby canal park
He said, “It’s easy: it’s down the road by the pond where that huge white cross is.
“What huge white cross?”
“That huge white cross by the pond. You know. It’s imposing. You can’t miss it.”
Well, I had obviously missed it, but he had piqued my interest. That evening after dinner, I hopped on my old blue Schwinn and pedaled a couple of miles over the canal bridge, out-of-town, past farms and fields. At a bend in the road more than two miles out, I saw the cross, nestled on a small hill against a grove of pines. Huge, white, imposing. Just as my son had said–I couldn’t miss it.
You couldn't miss it. Huge, white, imposing . . . just like my son said.
As I biked another half mile, the cross loomed larger. I came to a stop at the pond
near the end of a Dead-End road, straddled my bike and looked at the reflection in the water. A grassy bank sloped up from the far side of the pond. The cross stood silently, white arms outstretched, against dark green. I wondered why it was there. Whose property was this? Who had erected it? Why?
near the end of a Dead-End road, straddled my bike and looked at the reflection in the water. A grassy bank sloped up from the far side of the pond. The cross stood silently, white arms outstretched, against dark green. I wondered why it was there. Whose property was this? Who had erected it? Why?
The questions went unanswered that evening, as dusk was setting in and I had three miles to pedal back home.
The following day my husband and I were out and about in our blue Saturn. I asked him if we could take the time to go in search of the canal park again. We found it – just beyond the cross, around the bend at the end of the Dead-End dirt road that curved around the pond. And as we curved around that bend, a few feet beyond where I had paused the
I was humbled by this family's testimony. Photographer Ginny Merritt
evening before, was a sign that answered all my questions. The cross was a tribute to
members of a family for their faith in Jesus Christ and their lives lived out in light of that faith. I was humbled by this testimony marked by the huge white cross. Faith interwoven with works.
members of a family for their faith in Jesus Christ and their lives lived out in light of that faith. I was humbled by this testimony marked by the huge white cross. Faith interwoven with works.
Don’t miss it
Photographer, Ginny Merritt
Ginny Merritt is a sawed-off hippie homemaker, writer, photographer and pastor’s wife living in New York with her husband Ray. They have two grown children and two growing grandsons. They all love to garden with specialties ranging from Brussels sprouts to morning glories.
Posted on October 17, 2011
Jean’s email jowildflowers@gmail.com
Blog: jean-oathout.blogspot.com
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