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Show 228 a very rough trip and lots of adults would have given up and asked for that helicopter rescue." In the middle of that first very difficult day, Allen had gathered us all along the shore, a shivering mass, and offered us the only other way out of the canyon than just persisting in our canoes, stroke by stroke against the cold, the wind, the waves. We had all declined his offer. "But you," he is looking at each of our children now, one by one, "not one of you has ever even complained. Not once." His voice is touched by unshed tears. It is true, I realize. The other volunteers are agreeing, one by one, voicing their admiration for our children and the valiant efforts they have all made in their enduring this difficult task without complaint. I am filled with love for my family, mirrored by these people, strangers to us just three days ago, so close to us now from our having endured something very definably difficult together. "Happy birthday!" Allen is saying, handing me a plate of steaming Dutch oven chocolate cake drizzled with raspberry sauce. They are all beginning to sing the off-key version of the familiar song and I am laughing. I had forgotten it was my birthday. I am looking around at this group of family and new friends, all sharing war-stories of the past few days in their now exaggerated formats. Legends in the making. This trip has been an allegory, I am thinking, of our life. We thought it would be easier and it was not. It has actually been |