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The Little Town They Call “Peace”

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The Little Town They Call “Peace”

The traveler was tired. He limped a bit, favoring his right side because of the hole in his shoe sole. His worn clothes gave proof that his journey had been long and filled with much hardship. Exposure to the elements had darkened and weathered his skin. His eyes squinted in the afternoon sun.

The barefooted farmer stopped weeding his front yard and leaned on the handle of his hoe for a moment. He watched the man walking down the dirt road while he caught his breath. The traveler stopped and turned to face him.

With a warm smile he said, “Howdy.”

The farmer returned his greeting.

“Pardon me sir,” he said, “which way do I go through those mountains yonder, to get to the little town they call Peace?”

The farmer smiled back and turned thoughtfully toward the distant mountains. The big valley before them stretched for several miles.

“Well sir,” the farmer began, “since ya asked me about Peace, I reckon you already know it ain’t the easiest place for some folk to git to. But those that have a hankerin’ to find it, always seem to find it.”

“Yes sir. I’ve lived for years back yonder in a place called Turmoil. I was born there on Division Street, right beside Rumor Alley.

“Nothing but stormy weather there almost year ‘round. I just couldn’t stay another day.

“When I heard someone talk about this place they call Peace, I sold out and headed in this direction.”

“I see,” the farmer said as he walked closer to the traveler. Stooping down, he picked up a small stick, knelt on one knee and began to draw a map of sorts in the dirt. As he drew, he began to talk.

“You can’t get there without going through The Blood,” he explained while drawing with his stick. When you get through there,” he said making an “X”, “here is where you’ll come to Obedience Road. That is the main road and it is well-marked. There are some signs that have been posted along the way to help folk.

“Then you’ll come to Submission Mountain before long. Watch for the sign. It’ll take you on up through Patience Pass. You can’t miss it.

“Keep following that trail. It will lead you through the summit of Forgiveness. It’s a gentle town with good people in it.

“You ain’t got far to go now. Just past there a ways, a beautiful valley opens up. That’s where the town of Peace is. Right in the middle.”

The farmer drew another “X” in the dirt and then threw the stick away as he stood to his feet.

“Well, iffin it was me,” he said, “once I got there, I’d build me a house and never leave.”

“Thank you kindly sir,” the traveler said as they shook hands, “I don’t aim too.”


Written by Martyn Ballestero

September 1, 2011 at 12:04 am

5 Responses

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  1. Wonderful! Peace peace wonderful peace, coming down from the Father above!

    kenneth bow

    September 1, 2011 at 12:36 am

  2. Thank God for His precious peace, even in the midst of the storm. Real peace, I need it today. Thanks for your wonderful words.


    September 1, 2011 at 6:48 am

  3. I had goosebumps as I read what the directions were. I’m singing with Bro Bow…. “Far away in the depths of my spirit tonight rolls a melody sweeter than song. In celestial like waves it increasingly falls o’re my soul like an infinite calm. Peace, peace….”

    Nila Marxer

    September 1, 2011 at 10:52 am

  4. Nila, they just don’t write songs with words like that anymore. Could it be because they’ve never been on a journey like Marty described? Just a thought.

    Elizabeth Herion

    September 3, 2011 at 12:46 am

    • It is the journey there that causes so many to never really travel to where the real peace is. They just don’t know what they are missing in this microwave serve it up fast I’m in a hurry generation.

      Michel Heimoz

      September 5, 2011 at 11:23 am

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