There's a path through the forest that he likes to walk. The trees are leafy well into November, and light is filtered to dappled the ground. The ground is rough and uneven, and occasionally he has to climb a steep pass. He has learned to pull himself up using the thin sturdy trunks of volunteer trees along the side of the cliff, and sometimes, he turns and looks down at the path behind him, leaning agains the tree as he does so. That moment, when his heart has almost resumed the normal pace, and the light shines just so through the canopy, he sees the hand of God.
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