A parson on the north coast of Cornwall says good night to a man at a fork in the road on his way home at midnight one night, not realizing at the time that this was also a fork in the road of his life, or death if he had chosen the other path.

One night, many years ago, a friend of the writer—a parson on the north coast of Cornwall—was walking along a lane in his parish at night. It was near midnight He had been to see, or had been sitting up with, a dying person.

As he came to a branch in the lane he saw a man there, and he called out "Good–night" He then stood still a moment, to consider which lane he should take. Both led to his rectory, but one was somewhat shorter than the other. The shorter was, however, stony and very wet He chose the longer way, and turned to the right. Thirty years after he was speaking with a parishioner who was ill, when the man said to him suddenly, "Do you remember such and such a night, when you came to the Y? You had been with Nankevill, who was dying."

"Yes, I do recall something about it."

"Do you remember you said 'Good–night' to me?'

"I remember that someone was there; I did not know it was you."

"And you turned right, instead of left?"

"I dare say."

"If you had taken the left–hand road you would never have seen next morning."

"Why so?"

"There was a large cargo of 'run' goods being transported that night, and you would have met it."

"What of that?"

"What of that? You would have been chucked over the cliffs."

"But how could they suppose I would peach?"

"Sir! They'd ha' took good care you shouldn't a' had the chance!"

Apparently 19thC Cornish smugglers could be as ruthless as they were prudent. They appear to leave nothing to chance and to leave no loose ends, including parsons, if need be.

I wonder how many of us have faced crossroads, turning points, or decision points like this, and have no idea of how close we might have come to a disastrous fate if we had chosen another way?

Such points can work both ways. Carlos Castanedas relates a story where he and Don Juan are traveling in a ravine and Castanedas stops to tie his shoe. Up ahead, where he would have been except for his loose shoeslaces, a major landslide occurs. Castanedas tells Don Juan that is was luck, or fate, that saved him from being killed by the landslide. Don Juan tells him that tying his shoelaces could have just as easily put him in the wrong spot at the wrong time and he would be dead now instead of being alive.