Margaret Fishback Powers - Footprints: 50th Anniversary Treasury

Fifty years ago, in the autumn of 1964, my boyfriend, Paul (now my husband), and I took a walk on a beacha walk that changed our lives. I told the story of that walk, and the prelude to it, in my bookFootprints: The True Story Behind the Poem That Inspired Millions.For readers not familiar with that time in my life, Ill briefly retrace the walk on the beach and the events leading up to it.

I had spent the summer recuperating from an illness (caused by lightning) at our family home in Ontario. A relationship I had clung to came to an end, and at the time, I felt brokenhearted. Through my brother, I met Paul Powers, a youth minister who liked to use magic illusions to entertain and challenge young people.

Pauls work kept him busy, and we didnt see each other often, but we wrote lots of letters. I found I was telling him things about myself Id never told anyone. We soon became close friends, even though miles apart.

A month later, in early autumn, Paul called to say he had been invited to speak at a youth retreat at a camp north of Kingston (about 150 miles east of Toronto), on the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend. He asked if I would accompany him and play the piano for the meetings. I happily accepted. So, on a Friday afternoon, I arrived at my sisters apartment in the west end of Toronto, where Paul and I had agreed to rendezvous. However, I wasnt prepared for what would happen when Paul arrived and then made a declaration: I love you, and I know you love me. And I have something for you.

Surprise registered on my face as Paul opened a little black box and showed me a sparkling diamond ring, nestled in velvet. Paul says my expression was at first sheer delight but that it almost turned to shock. I was a rather old-fashioned young woman in many respects and was accustomed to doing things in a very traditional way. I knew my parents had come to love Paul, but were they ready to welcome him into the family? It was all so sudden!

As it turned out, the ring was much too large for my finger. Paul slipped it on, and then we stood there laughing at the way it spun around. It was size six, and I was size three. Ill speak to your parents and get your fathers consent when we get back, he said thoughtfully. Does that make you feel better?

Soon, we were on our way to the Echo Lake conference grounds, near Kingston.

P AUL AND I WERE TO MEET several carloads of young people in Kingston for coffee before caravanning on to Echo Lake, some twenty miles farther. We were early, so we decided to go for a walk on the beach. Born and raised in the Great Lakes area, I have always loved beaches and sand hills. Paul parked the car and we jumped out, leaving behind our shoes, and went off barefoot, squishing the warm sand between our toes as we ran along.

The late afternoon sun dancing on the water made it sparkle. It was incredibly beautiful! As we chatted, we held each others hand and dashed in and out of the water while the waves rolled up on shore. Finally Paul looked at his watch and said it was time to turn back.

We laughed and made more light talk, retracing our steps toward the car, and then, when we picked up our discussion, it took a serious turn. The waves were washing up over our footprints, leaving only one set of prints visible. Maybe thats what will happen to usmaybe well be all washed up, I said, sighing. Maybe our dreams are going to wash away.

No, Paul protested, this makes me think of our future. On our wedding day, we two will become one. See our footprints just up ahead? Theyre still there. Where they are washed out, that means troubled waters were going to face. Every marriage faces that. We have to work at marriage every day.

What will happen when trouble comes that we just cant handle? I asked. We paused and I pointed to the sand. Look, Paul, now theres only one set of footprints!

Paul fell silent for a moment, then he said, Margie, when the most troublesome times come, times that neither one of us can handle, thats when the Lord will carry us both, as long as we maintain our faith and trust in Him.

It was such a beautiful thought, expressed with such utmost sincerity, that it took my breath away. The poet in me stirred. How could I let this man go? Then he playfully picked me up, and put me on his shoulder.

We were young and in love, serious and contemplative, but the retreat was to be a happy event and Paul enjoyed hearing me laugh and seeing me smile. He knew that I needed this weekend retreat as much as any of the students who would be attending. He reminded me, Im here. Im holding you, and youre safe.

It all happened in the space of just a few minutes, but the impression and memory have lasted forever. I remember how Paul gently put me downhow we kept walking, arms around each others waist. But as we walked, we continued to silently observe our two sets of footprintsand sometimes one. And it set my mind to musing. I was quite absorbed in my thinking.

We returned to the hotel, where we were to meet the others. As we sat in the coffee shop waiting for them to arrive, I took a paper napkin and began jotting down some ideas and phrases.

What are you doing? Paul asked, as if he didnt already know. Hed seen me reach for something to write on when the inspiration struck. Poems were always forming in my head, it seemed.

Oh, just another poem, I said, smiling at him. Its about our footprints in the sand.

W HEN THE YOUNG PEOPLE ARRIVED, we all piled into our cars and drove on to Echo Lake. We found our cabins and unpacked. That evening, we enjoyed music and Paul spoke at the conference meeting. Then I went to our large open cabin. The girls were having fun, but I was tired from a very long day and the drive from Toronto. Many of the other girls were tired, too, having traveled from New York State. I was glad when they settled down and one by one fell asleep. Yet sleep eluded me.

I thought about Paul and wondered if our relationship had proceeded too fast. Wed known each other only six weeks. What would my family say? My mind replayed our beach-walk conversation. And then I reached for my notepad, pen, and flashlight. The words that had been forming in my head since that afternoon began taking shape on the paper.

As if in a dream, I saw a story unfolding in my minds eye. I saw myself walking along a beach with the Lord, our feet leaving footprints in the sand. Across the sky flashed scenes from my life, and for each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sandmy own, and that of the Lord. When the last scene of my life shot before me, I looked back and saw that there was only one set of footprints. I realized that this was at the lowest and saddest times of my life. I asked the Lord where He had been when I needed Him most.

The words tumbled out, easily, effortlessly. Lord, You told me when I decided to follow You, You would walk and talk with me all the way. But Im aware that during the most troublesome times of my life, there is only one set of footprints. I just dont understand why, when I needed You most, You leave me.