I recently followed my kids around the winding boulders of Bilger Rocks, and this got me thinking about how important childhood exploration is to the cultivation of hope.

For over an hour, my kids climbed and ducked through these rocks - a moss green maze in the midst of winter. Sometimes we even lost sight of them for a moment only to hear, "Mom, Dad, you have to come and see this!" We'd follow the sound of their voice to look at some new rock room, dark cave, or root system climbing over rocks now being climbed on by my children.

I grew up with these kinds of explorations - on my bike, in the woods, and in and out of the homes of neighbors. We discovered blackberry bushes ready for the picking, streams we didn't know existed, and even the place where the teenagers smoked pot.

I wonder, in an effort to protect and cultivate our youth, how much our society and our parenting increasingly directs all their doing, all their time, and all their locations. It's understandable on some level. We live in a scary world, I suppose. But in controlling all their movements, maybe we also cultivate their pessimism. Underneath the control is a message: "This world is awful. We can't let you explore it."

Conversely, it seems that giving them appropriate room to explore is part of how our kids discover the possibility of hope. They turn that corner out of our sight only to find some unfound wonder on the other side of a green boulder. Before we can yell for them to stay near us, they've found some crack between the rocks they feel is worth trying to squeeze through.

Part of how we teach people - especially young ones - to discover hope is to let them explore. As they get older, they will eventually turn some corner into the unknown only to discover unanticipated danger. It's inevitable. I wish this wasn't the case. But while we can still stay near them and hear their voices in the distance even if out of sight, we can let them discover and believe the tenuous truth that the unknown also holds joy. Let them find it. And let their laughs and excited exclamations remind us of it as well.

Pictures taken in the winding maze of Bilger Rocks in Grampian, Pennsylvania. The rocks are privately owned and maintained by a citizen association that makes the experience available to the public.