Surviving the Fall

(originally drafted in 9/2025)

The opening sequence of Little House on the Prairie has lived in my memory since childhood.

The Ingalls family arrives at their new home, full of hope. Laura runs joyfully down the hillside. Mary follows, smiling into the wind.

Then comes little Carrie.

She begins running, loses her footing, and tumbles into the wildflowers.

There is a pause.

Then she gets up.

As a child, I barely noticed the moment.

Last summer, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

There are seasons in our lives when we lose our footing—when grief, illness, disappointment, betrayal, or unexpected change knocks the wind from us.

For a long time, I felt sadness that Carrie didn't immediately return to running with the same carefree abandon.

Now, I see something different.

I celebrate that she got up at all.

Sometimes courage isn't found in returning to who we were before.

Sometimes courage is simply choosing to continue—more slowly, more carefully, carrying a tenderness that wasn't there before.

Perhaps healing doesn't always ask us to run.

Perhaps, for a while, it simply asks us to keep moving.

A gentle offering:

May we meet ourselves with compassion in those quiet moments after the fall.

May we honor the courage it takes to rise.