Alice Zhong
On a wet rainy day in July, several shadowy figures could be seen flickering in and out of the thick mist as they trudged up a worn, steeply ascending trail. The youngest of them was a 13 year old girl, and this was the very first mountain she had to tackle. As she struggled wearily at the very end of the scattered party, she felt herself losing faith.
When my uncle, Gloria, Josh, and I started preparing for our climb up Haba Snow Mountain, I was very confident about summiting. Having no experience with mountain climbing, I thought it would be exciting, fun, and at most, a little tiring. Pictures of beaming hikers with a magnificent scene of white snow and fluffy clouds as background came into my head whenever anyone brought up this subject to me. I didn’t notice, however, of the tiredness and hardships mingled with joy clearly written on their faces.
Gloria and Joshua (who were far more experienced at hiking and camping than I) were not in the least enthusiastic about climbing the mountain. They grumbled about the whole matter, and acted extremely unexcited. I thought innocently, “Surely it’s because they already hiked so many times so they got bored or some such reason, not because it’s extremely difficult or anything.”
After 4 years of separation from the COVID, my family reunited with my dad’s sister and her family. We spent 12 days together in Guangzhou, Lijiang, and XiAn, and while we were in Lijiang, my uncle took my cousins and me took climb Haba Snow Mountain, which had an evelation of 5396. His friend Marty (who lived in Lijiang) would accompany us to 4500 but no further, and we spent three evenings in preparation both at his house and the mall, buying all the hiking gear. Then, on the afternoon of July 10th, the four of us clambered into Marty’s car at the Hyatt Hotel for a two hour drive to the Leaping Gorge and beyond, to Haba Village, where we would spend the night.
The next morning passed swiftly as we made our way rapidly up the Forested Slopes and the Alpine Meadows of Haba, the first obstacles of our hike, followed by a mule ride up to 4300. It had turned rainy and misty when we reached the camp grounds (if you could call it a camp since it was only two or three bunk houses clustered together). We, dripping and on wobbly, painful legs from the mule ride, stumbled into the cabins to eat lunch (if you could call it that either since it consisted entirely of instant noodles and small snacks).
The afternoon passed much harder. Cold rain fell unmercifully from the gray, dim sky accompanied by shrill winds. We had now reached a place almost completely bare and desolate, with only the rock ground rising steeply into the mist below. My legs ached with exhaustion as they bent and straitened up, bent and straightened up in a mechanical process which could not continue without a rest every 20 steps. I had my head bowed against the wailing wind and saw, as if in a dream, my feet being dragged over the uneven ground by the sheer power of mind. Every step was a torture and a challenge to both physical strength and willpower. My clothes were soaked wet by the merciless rain and hung heavily from my shoulders. Only the wail of the wind and our weary steps could be heard. From time to time, I raised my eyes and stared hopelessly ahead into the mist where lay the hundreds of miles I knew were still to come.
Very soon, Gloria and I lagged far behind the others. When I lifted my eyes, I could faintly see the muscular form of Uncle and Josh’s gray hood flickering in and out through the mist. Far off, I heard faintly Uncle’s voice calling “Come on girls, you can do this!”
We tried to quicken our steps but weariness added to unwillingness pulled on our legs like ropes of steel. In the distance, the dim shapes of our companions could be seen in the shelter of a large boulder, waiting for us, occasionally shouting down encouragements to us.
“Why does Josh take it so easily”, I panted to Gloria as we stopped for rest again. “I’m too tired to go on, honestly. Why does it have to be so hard?”
Through her weariness, Gloria managed a smile and said shortly (in order to save breath)“We can do this, I’m sure.”
As pain and torture pulled me against my will, I kept repeating a sentence, over and over, for it was indeed the last thing within my power to do. Just three words, and yet it carried all I needed and wanted: “Jesus help me, Jesus help me, Jesus help me.” When I had reached perhaps the 50th time, my blurred mind cleared a little and saw that Gloria and I had reached several larger rocks, where the others (for the Nth time, were gathered to wait for us).
“Cheer up girls,” Marty smiled at us, while we practically “fell” on to the rocks and took our drinks. “We are nearly there.”
“How far?” Gloria managed to ask.
“Well, I should say about another 20 minutes or so,” was the reply.
“Oh great,” I thought, “20 minutes, one hour. What’s the difference, I’d like to know.”
“This time we’ll let the girls go first and we’ll follow.” Uncle was saying. “That should help them and quicken our pace. Alice, you’ll go first and Gloria next. The rest of all will follow. ”
I heaved up my pack, and set my muddy shoes once more on the narrow trail. The others filed behind me. “I must not stop, I must never stop.” I told myself through clenched teeth “I can’t be the one pulling the leg.”
One step at a time, I moved slowly but steadily up, thinking over and over weakly “Jesus help me, Jesus help me.” I did not look back at the others, nor look upwards at the steep ground disappearing into the clouds. Instead, I fixed my gaze on my feet, stumbling and crunching on the rocks and gravel underneath. Finally, all my strength gave out and I had to stop. Gasping for breath, I stopped and looked back. To my surprise, Gloria was already a distance away behind me, stopping often while the others waited behind her. Josh, seeing me stop, scrambled up towards me, called, “You’re doing great, Alice, keep it up!”, and gave me a high five. That simple deed warmed me from head to foot, and I felt secure, knowing that I had a big brother to protect and encourage me. Focusing on my feet again, I started going on again with renewed energy and scanned the trail ahead to find larger rocks where I could rest and wait for them. Josh, however, didn’t think it was a good idea.
“You shouldn’t sit down because your body will get relaxed and you’ll feel harder once you get going again. But you can lean on it though.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “Whatever you say. I can never ever reach it anyway.”
“But you need to have hope,” Josh told me earnestly. “If you don’t believe that you are capable of going on, you’ll really just drop out.”
“Easy for you to say,” I shot back, “This mountain is so much easier for you than for us.”
“I know that, but you still have to believe in yourself, and believe that you can do it. In that way, it won’t seem so difficult. ”
I shrugged and he went on, “And this exercise is really good for you because it prepares you later for life. You may not like it just now, but it’s defiantly helpful.
“OK, thank you professor,” I sighed, “I’ll try. Happy?”
“Yeah. That’s how it works. And see, we’re here.”
I lifted my eyes and saw, dimly, through the mist, that we had reached a relatively flat ground, and the shapes of 2 or 3 cabins could be seen. I felt so relieved I nearly dropped onto the ground then and there. Josh walked on and disappeared into the nearest one, but I waited for Gloria. They finally came up, Gloria looking too tired to even smile. Uncle gave Gloria and I each a high five. “Yay girls, we made it didn’t we!”
Over the next hour, we ate dinner, went to the toilet, and tested our oxygen level every half hour. Dinner was better than lunch, but I did not eat much anyway since I didn’t feel too well. While the others felt warm, I felt freezing and cold. My teeth chattered despite my effort of clenching them, and I shook all over uncontrollably in my wet clothes.
After our early dinner, we all lumbered clumsily (in our thick clothes) to our bunks, although it was only 6 pm. Gloria and I pulled extra blankets form other the bunks, but still I couldn’t get warm. I lay in the complete darkness, huddled under my blankets, still shivering from cold.
That night, I woke multiple times and every time I heard the roaring of rain and sometimes the loud snoring from the boys’ room. When I started out of sleep for the 4rth time, I immediately notice that something was wrong. Then I knew what it was: my head was splitting from a horrible headache.
“Altitude sickness,” I moaned. “Just what I need right now.”
I reached for my phone under my pillow and clicked it open. The screen lit up and showed the time. It was about 11:30. I lay still, while my head throbbed, wondering if I should go inform Uncle and try to lessen the pain.
Finally, the ache got so bad I didn’t stand a choice. I stumbled out of bed and headed for the boys’ room. After I told my problem to Uncle, he said there wasn’t much we could do about altitude sickness. All the same, he handed me two pills and I made my way across the creaky board floor to bed.
I felt awful. Here I was, with my head splitting with pain, and with not a person to help me or support me. I was utterly on my own, up high on mountain in a frightful storm, unable even to send a message or telephone my folks because there was no internet. As I lay there, huddled in the cold darkness, I realized there was only one thing left to do.
“Dear God,” I prayed, “This headache is killing me and I can’t do anything. Others can’t do anything either. I can’t count on mom and dad or Uncle anymore. Only you can help now. Please help me.” Then, slowly, a picture came into my head: a Roman soldier, a jeering crowd, a man covered with blood. The soldier laughed uproariously along with the crowd as he jerked a crown of thorns onto the head of Jesus. The sharp thorns sunk into his bare flesh, ripping out his skin, but he did not shout or struggle. He took all the insults quietly and trusted himself up to God. What was that he said that night before he knew was to be his certain death? “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” His suffering was hundreds of times more painful and unbearable than my headache. And He was far more alone than I, for the whole world, including God Himself turned their heads away from Him. And yet he did it for me. For me. At this very moment, the reason that I now could still rely upon God and pray to Him was because Jesus suffered more pain and loneliness for me. God patiently listens to my prayers because Jesus was turned away in my place. Hot tears were now rolling off my face, whether from the pain in my head or from God’s love I had just experienced I knew not.
“Oh, dear Jesus,” I prayed, “The thorn crown and all your suffering on the cross that day surpassed all the headaches I ever had. You were utterly on your own on that cross while now, I still have you. Yet you bore your burden without complaint because you loved me. So I could be alive right now, so I wouldn’t end up in Hell. The Bible says: For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize our weaknesses, but we have one who is been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. I believe you have the power to heal me and I pray earnestly that you do. But more importantly than that, let me experience your love and please be with me. Always. Because you are all I have now. I know you won’t fail me.”
As I prayed, my head still ached and throbbed, but now, I felt much calmer because I knew my Father is still with me, and He would surely help me if nobody else could. Thinking these thoughts, I closed my eyes peacefully and drifted off to sleep.
During the rest of the night, I slept soundly and did not wake again until 3:30 in the morning. I opened my eyes and the first thing I knew was that my headache had gone—completely. I smiled and prayed “Thank you, God, so much. I knew you would help me.”
The rain was still falling in showers and with a jolt of fear I thought about what would happen if our trip was delayed. But I trusted that to God as well and concentrated on reading the bible on my phone since it was too cold and I had no strength to reach my Bible in my pack.
During breakfast, the three of us discussed how perfectly beastly our night was. Gloria, red-eyed, made her way to the table with her hair hanging loosely about her face, a forlorn expression on her face. Josh still looked his usual self, and, as always, was last to get up. I had no idea of how terrible I looked, but I was too tired to care at all. Even though my headache had subsided, I still felt slightly sick and found breathing hard. Uncle and Josh got headaches as well.
“I’ve got a killer headache,” Gloria, in a quavering voice, “I haven’t slept all night because of it.”
“My head ached last night too,” I told her, “But it doesn’t hurt now.”
Josh came lumbering into the kitchen in his thick coat. “I didn’t sleep at all. First Alice came to get a pill, and then Dad and Marty snored so loudly I couldn’t sleep at all.”
“I heard Marty’s snores too, and it was like to whole house was shaking.” Gloria said.
We all laughed a little at this, but everything was still far from pleasant. Rain and wind still beat against the bunkhouse and spirits were low when we were informed that we were unable to start in this weather. We could only wait here till the weather was better. After breakfast, everyone all stumbled back to bed since it was cold and we had nothing else to do. Before I went back to bed, I made a trip to the toilet, which was the most “natural” toilet I had ever seen. I pulled on my coat, put on my shoes (still wet, muddy, and very cold) and turned on my headlight. Under the feeble shelter of my umbrella, I made my way through the thick rain to a large boulder about 30 meters away from our bunkhouse. Several boards loosely nailed together leaned against it, creating a place in between to squat. The cold made me finish up quickly and hurry back inside. I felt all shivery again like the night before when I climbed back to bed. 3 or 4 hours must have passed when we heard knocking on our door and our guide’s voice called, “The rain is smaller, we can start now.” In 5 minutes, we were all roused (unwillingly of course) and pulling on snow pants, hoods, dun jackets, and overall, ponchos.
We went to single file out of the cabin doors. The rain was no longer pouring, but a drizzle remained, cold and stinging. The mist was much thicker than the day before. We have gone no further than 30 steps when the cabins had been completely swallowed by the fog. The horrible torture of the day before resumed quickly as my legs started aching once more. Add it seemed that the method of going in front that had helped me succeed yesterday was not working today.
When I squinted into the fog and rain, sometimes I could see patches of snow around me. We made our way through the rocks and rubble up the worn trail, which grew ever steeper and more slippery as we made our way upward. Josh was helping us (the girls) the best he could, talking to us to take our mind off matters and sometimes pulling us up when necessary. It was partly because of his help that I can still go on.
As our elevation ever increased, the wind howled more fiercely in our faces. My hands and feet had gone numb and could hardly feel inside my shoes and gloves. The rain blinded my eyes and slid off my face. I staggered on, awake, but still as if in a dream. I was no longer conscious of anything around me, except the biting cold and my exhaustion. I could think of nothing, my mind was blank. I only knew I wanted to stop, to lie down on the ground and rest, rest, rest…
In the end, dear readers, I’m sorry to say that none of us summited. Gloria and I doubled back at 4800, followed by Uncle and Josh at 5000. The weather was mostly to blame, because as Marty put it, “I’ve never seen such bad weather on Haba.”
But to me, my first mountain trip meant a lot to me, and personally, it was a victory. I experienced love and support in a way I never had before. More or less, Gloria, Uncle, and Josh had all helped me reach where I did. Without them, I would probably only reached a little more than 4300, to be honest. I will always remember Uncle’s repeated encouragements to “the girls”, and Gloria’s sweet hopeful words to me, even though she was just as tired as I. I will especially add that, the support I got from Josh came as a total surprise. I had not known that Josh had this loving, compassionate side, because in my mind, he was still the naughty little boy who had pillow-fought me and chased me, screaming, all over the house. Yet in some of my hardest moment during the whole climb, it was Josh who helped me get through. He didn’t say much, but I knew he meant it, and that’s what matters. I still feel warmth in my heart when I go back and savor those few moments, brief, but they stuck in my heart.
When I think ahead about the future of the head of me, I know there will be other times when I face hardships and loneliness, times will rain and sleet will sting my face, times when the wind will blow mockingly around me, and times when thick gray fog will try to engulf me. There will be times when I feel like I can’t go on anymore. But in all those times one thing doesn’t change and won’t change forever. No matter how desperate I feel, I still have a Father, who never changes when the circumstances do. He will always lend a helping hand and a willing ear to my prayers, like that sleepless night on Haba. I firmly believe that He will help me through every rough patch in my life. Besides Him, I know there will also be my parents, my family, and my true friends in Christ standing by me in hard times ahead, just like my cousins and uncle helping me up the mountain. So, I will always remember Josh’s words, “There is always hope.” Not hope in the corrupt world, in any earthly person, or in the belief that everything will turn better, but in God.
Time passed quickly, and one week later, our big family had to go our separate ways. We had our last ride together to XiAn Airport, where we would return to Guangzhou, and Gloria’s family to Beijing When we parted (most of us were in tears), Josh gave me a hug, and the last thing he said to me was, “You did a great job on that mountain. Much better than Gloria,” The only word I managed to reply without my voice breaking into sobs was, “Thanks.” And that’s what I think about every time I talk or think about Haba. I want to say “thanks” to my Uncle, Marty, my brilliant cousins, my parents, and most of all, God. That is because now I really understood reason why I had been able to reach new heights. Only parts of my confidence and strength comes from myself, the rest comes from Above, my family, and friends. All I had achieved wasn’t because of my physical strength, or even my mental willpower; it was compassion, hope, trust, and most importantly, love.
Left to Right: Uncle, Josh, Gloria, me, Marty
译文.
在七月的一个潮湿的雨天，透过薄雾，你可以若隐若现的看到几个模糊的身影，在一条破旧陡峭的小道上艰难的前行。他们中最小的是一个13岁的女孩，这是她必须攀登的第一座雪山。当她疲惫地挣扎在分散的队伍的末尾时，她几乎失去了信心。
当我的姑父、Gloria、Josh和我开始准备攀登哈巴雪山时，我对此很有信心。没有过登山经验的我觉得这将会刺激而有趣，顶多也就是会有点累。每当有人向我提起这个话题时，我的脑海中就会浮现出那些以白雪和蓬松的云朵为背景、笑容满面的徒步旅行者的画面。然而，我并没有留意到他们充满喜悦的脸上同时还交织着疲惫与艰辛。
在徒步旅行和露营方面比我更有经验的Gloria 和 Joshua对此似乎一点也提不起兴致，甚至对此怨声载道，表现得极为冷淡。我天真地想，“一定是因为他们已经徒步旅行了很多次了或其它什么原因，导致他们这样，总之肯定不会是因为困难这类的原因。”
在经历了因新冠疫情带来的4年分离后，我们家与我姑姑家终于又团聚了。我们一起在广州、丽江和西安度过了12天。在丽江的时候，姑父带着我和我的表亲们去攀登了海拔5396米的哈巴雪山。他的朋友Marty（住在丽江）会陪我们攀登到4500米的高度而后不再往上。我们花了三晚在Marty家和商场做攀登前的筹备工作，买了所有登山装备。7月10日下午，我们四个人从凯悦酒店上了Marty的车，驱车两个小时先后到达了虎跳峡及我们将在那儿过夜的哈巴村。
第二天早上过得很快，我们迅速爬上了哈巴雪山的森林和草原，这是我们这场徒步旅行的第一个挑战。随后我们骑着骡子到达了4300米高度的营地。当我们到达营地时（所谓营地其实只有两三间双层房屋聚在一起），天气开始充满了雨雾。我们带着湿透的身体和因为在骡子上不断颠簸摇晃碰撞而疼痛难忍的双腿，跌跌撞撞地走进小屋里吃午饭（如果可以把方便面和小零食称之为午饭的话）。
下午过得更艰难了。冰冷的雨点无情地从灰黑昏暗的天空中飘落，伴随着凄厉的风。我们到达了一个几乎完全裸露而荒凉的地方--光秃岩石的地面陡峭地直插在下面的薄雾上。在无休止机械式地重复着弯曲、收紧、伸直动作后，我的腿因精疲力尽而疼痛不已，每走20步必须休息一次。在呼啸的烈风中，我低着头，仿佛在梦境中游离般，单纯凭借着意志力，拖着双腿在凹凸不平的地面前进，每一步都是对体力和意志力的折磨和挑战。我的衣服被无情的雨水淋湿了，沉重地压在肩上。四周只能听到风的哀号声和我们疲惫的脚步声。想到还有数百英里的路途要走，我不时抬起眼睛，绝望地凝视着前方的薄雾。
很快，Gloria和我就远远落后于其他人。当我抬起眼睛时，我可以看到姑父和Josh的灰色兜帽在薄雾中若隐若现，并隐约听到姑父的声音从远处传来：“加油，姑娘们，你们能行！”
我们试图加快步伐，但疲惫与低落勉强的情绪像钢丝绳一样拉着我们的腿。在浓浓的雾气中，可以隐约看到我们的同伴们在远处一块大石头的遮蔽下等着我们并不时大声鼓励我们。
“为什么Josh 看上去这么轻松？”，当我们再次停下来休息时，我气喘吁吁地对Gloria说。“说实话，我实在累得难以继续前进了。为什么这么难啊？”
带着满脸疲惫的Gloria勉强地笑了笑，“我相信我们可以做到。”她简短的说道。在当时的处境下，多说一点都十分耗费体力。
当痛苦与折磨几乎吞噬了我的意志，“耶稣帮助我，耶稣帮助我。”我一遍又一遍地重复着这句话--这实在是我当时力所能及能做的最后一件事。虽然只有短短三个字（英文），但它承载了我当时所需所想的一切：当重复到第50次时，我浑浑噩噩的头脑稍微清醒了一点，看到Gloria和我已经到达了其他人（第N次）聚着等我们的更大石头之处。
“振作起来姑娘们，”Marty对我们笑了笑，而我们几乎“摔”在了岩石上，并开始喝水。“我们快到了。”
“多远？”Gloria虚弱的问道。
“大概再过20分钟左右”他回应道。
“好吧，”我想，对已经精疲力尽的我们来说20分钟或一个小时又有什么区别呢。
“这次让姑娘们走在前，我们跟在后面。”姑父说。“这应该会有助于她们，同时加快我们整体的进度。Alice你先走，Gloria跟上，其他人紧随其后。”
我重新背起背包，踩着泥泞的鞋子再次踏上了路程。其他人依次排在我身后。“我决不能停下来，决不能停下来。”我咬着牙告诉自己，“我不能成为那个拖后腿的人。”
我稳步而缓慢一步一个脚印地向上爬着，心底里一遍又一遍虚弱地叨念着“耶稣帮帮我，耶稣帮帮我。”我没有回头看其他人，也没有抬头看逐渐消失在云层中的陡峭地面。相反，我目不转睛地盯着自己的脚，跌跌撞撞地踩过岩石和砂砾，嘎吱作响。最后，当所有的力量都耗尽了，我不得不停了下来。我喘着粗气回头看了看。令我惊讶的是，身后的Gloria已经离我很远了，当其他人在她身后等待时，她经常停下来。Josh 看到我停了下来，快步向我走来，喊道：“你做得很好，Alice，加油！”然后向我击掌。这一简单的举动从头到脚温暖了我，我顿时充满了安心的感觉，因为知道有一个大哥哥在保护和鼓励我。我再次专注于自己的脚步，带着被爱意重新加满的能量继续前行，并扫视前方的窄路，寻找着更大的岩石以便我可以在那里小憩并等待后面的伙伴。然而，Josh 认为这不是一个好主意。
“你不应该坐下来，一旦坐下来你的身体就会放松，这样当你要重新开始的时候会更难。你应该一鼓作气。”
“好吧，”我不耐烦地说道。“随你怎么说，反正无论如何我永远都走不到。”
“但你要有希望，”Josh认真地对我说。“如果你都不相信自己能继续下去了，那你真的会放弃。”
“你说的容易，”我回击道，“相比我们，这座山对你来说容易得多了。”
“我知道，但你仍然必须相信自己，相信自己能做到。这样事情就不会那么困难了。”
我不置可否的耸耸肩，他继续说道：“这项操练对你来说真的很好，它会为你面对未来的生活做好准备。你可能现在还不喜欢它，但它确实会很有帮助。”。
“好吧，谢谢你，教授，”我叹了口气，“我会试试看。开心了吗？”
“是的。就是这么回事。看，我们这不是到了吗。”
我抬起眼，透过薄雾模糊地看到我们已经到达了一个相对平坦的地面，可以看到两三个小屋的轮廓。我顿时感到如释重负，差点儿就瘫倒在地。Josh 继续往前走，他的身影消失在了最近的一个小屋里。我在原地等着Gloria。他们终于上来了，Gloria看上去累得连笑都笑不出来了。姑父分别与Gloria和我击掌，“耶，姑娘们，我们成功了，不是吗？”
在接下来的一个小时里，我们吃了晚饭，上了厕所，每半小时检测一次氧气水平。晚饭比午饭好，但我还是没怎么吃，因为我感觉不太舒服。当其他人感到暖和时我依然感到冰冷。尽管我努力地咬紧牙关，但我的牙齿还是嘎嘎作响，我穿着湿漉漉的衣服，无法控制地浑身发抖。
晚饭后，穿着厚重衣服的我们笨拙地来到我们的铺位，尽管当时只是下午6点。Gloria 和我从其他铺位上多拉了几条毯子过来，但我还是暖和不起来。在一片漆黑中我蜷缩在毯子里，依然冻得瑟瑟发抖。
那天晚上，我醒了好几次，每次我都能听到屋外倾盆大雨的呼啸声，以及时不时从男孩房间里传来的鼾声。当我第四次醒过来时，我立刻意识到哪里不对劲儿了，一会儿我反应过来：我的头因为剧烈的疼痛几乎像要裂开了。
“高原反应，”我呻吟着。“这正是我现在的状况。”
我伸手去拿枕头下的手机并点开，屏幕亮了，显示时间是11点30分左右。头不停的抽痛着的我躺着不动，心里犹豫着不知是否应该去告诉姑父并试着减轻疼痛。
最后，强烈而没有缓解的疼痛使我别无选择。我跌跌撞撞地从床上爬起来，朝男孩的房间走去。在我把我的问题告诉姑父后，他说我们对高原反应没有太多的办法。尽管如此，他还是递给了我两片药丸。拿了药丸，我穿过吱吱作响的木板地，回到上床睡觉。
我感觉很糟糕。在这里，我的头痛得几乎要裂开，但没有人能帮助我、支持我。我必须完全靠自己在一场可怕的风暴中爬上高山，甚至无法给家人发信息或打电话，因为没有互联网。当我躺在那里，蜷缩在寒冷的黑暗中时，我意识到只有一件事可以做了。
“亲爱的上帝，”我祷告道，“我的头疼死了，可我什么都做不了，其他人也什么都做不了。我也不能指望爸爸妈妈或姑父了。现在只有你能帮助我了。请帮帮我。”然后，慢慢地，一幅画面出现在我的脑海中：一个罗马士兵，一群嘲笑的人，一个浑身是血的人。当士兵把一顶荆棘冠冕戴到耶稣的头上时，他和人群一起大笑起来。尖刺扎进了耶稣裸露的肉体，撕裂了他的皮肤，但他没有喊叫，也没有挣扎。他一心信靠天父，平静地接受了所有的侮辱。那天晚上，在他知道自己必须死之前，他说了什么？“我的父啊！可能的话，求你使这杯离开我；但不要照我的意思，只要照你的旨意。”他所承受的痛苦是我头痛的数百倍。他比我孤独得多，因为全世界，包括上帝自己，都转过头来掩面不看他。然而，他这样是为了我。为了我。此时此刻，我之所以仍然可以依靠上帝并向祂祈祷，是因为耶稣为我遭受了更多更深的痛苦和孤独。上帝耐心地倾听我的祈祷，因为耶稣替代了我被拒之门外。顷刻间，我的脸上滚落下炽热的泪水，一时分不清究竟是因为头疼痛所留下的泪水，还是因为刚刚经历了被上帝的爱触摸所留下的感动的泪水。
“哦，亲爱的耶稣，”我祷告道，“那天，荆棘的冠冕给你带来的痛苦和你在十架上所受的所有的痛苦，都远远超过了我的头痛。你独自一人被挂在十字架上，而现在即便的我的处境艰难，我却仍然拥有你，并非一人。你毫无怨言地担当着重担只因为你爱我。因此我现在还可以活着，也因此我就不会下地狱了。《圣经》说：我们的大祭司并非不能体会我们的软弱，他也曾凡事受过试探，与我们一样，只是他没有犯罪。我相信你有能力医治我，我真诚地祈求你医治我。但更重要的是，求你让我能经历你的爱并永远和我在一起。因为你是我的全部。我知道你是信实的神。”
当我祷告的时候，我的头仍然强烈的抽动疼痛着，但祷告后，我感觉平静多了，因为我知道我的父仍然和我在一起，在没有人能帮助我的时候，祂必然不会丢下我。想到这些，我平静地闭上眼睛，睡着了。
在余下的时间里我睡得很香，直到凌晨3:30才再次醒来。我睁开眼睛立刻意识到我的头痛已经完全消失了。我笑着祷告道：“太感谢你了，上帝。我就知道你会帮助我的。”
窗外的倾盆大雨依然丝毫没有停歇，想到如果接下去的旅程被迫推迟不知又会发生什么，我的内心忍不住飘过了一丝恐惧。但我相信上帝，并专注地通过手机阅读圣经。（因为天气太冷了，我没有力气拿包里的纸质版圣经。）
早餐时，我们三个人讨论了我们的夜晚有多糟糕。Gloria红着眼睛走向桌子，头发凌乱松散地挂在脸上并露着凄凉的表情。Josh看起来还是和往常一样，依然是最后一个起床的。我不知道自己看上去有多糟糕，实在太累了根本顾不上自己的形象。尽管我的头痛已经消退，但我仍然感到有点不舒服，呼吸困难。姑父和Josh也都头疼。
“我头疼得要命，”Gloria颤抖着说，“整晚都没睡。”
“我昨晚也头疼，”我告诉她，“但现在不疼了。”
Josh穿着厚外套笨拙地走进厨房。“我根本没睡。先是Alice来拿药，然后爸爸和Marty 的鼾声实在太大，我根本睡不着。”
Gloria说：“我也听到了Marty 的鼾声，整个房子都在晃动。”
说到这我们都笑了笑，但一切还是很糟，难以令人开心起来。狂风和大雨依然没有要停止的样子。当得知这种天气情况我们无法出发时，我们的情绪都很低落。只能在这干等天气转好。早餐后，大家都跌跌撞撞地回到床上，因为天气很冷，我们没有其他事情可做。在我上床睡觉之前，我去了一趟厕所，这是我见过的最“天然”的厕所。我穿上外套和依然潮湿冰冷充满泥水的鞋子，打开头灯。在雨伞的稍微遮挡下，我冒着大雨来到离我们的小屋约30米远的一块大石头前。几块木板松散地钉在一起靠在上面，在中间形成了一个蹲着的地方。刺骨的寒冷让我很快上完厕所回到屋里。我再次感到浑身冻得发抖，就像前一天晚上爬回床上一样。3、4个小时过去了，我们听到了敲门声和向导的声音：“雨小了，我们可以出发了。”5分钟后，我们都被唤醒了（当然是不情愿的），穿上了雪裤、防风帽、羽绒滑雪衫以及雨披。
我们排成一列先后走出小屋。屋外的雨从倾盆大雨变成了毛毛细雨，但更加寒冷刺骨。雾也比前一天浓得多。我们只走了30步，小屋就完全消失在了浓雾里。前一天攀登过程中所经历的可怕的折磨很快又开始了，我的腿又开始疼了。且昨天帮助我成功地冲锋陷阵的方式今天似乎不起作用了。
当我眯着眼睛看着雾和雨时，有时我能看到周围的积雪。我们穿过岩石和砂砾，沿着破旧的小路前行。越往上，小路变得越来越陡、越来越滑。Josh尽其所能帮助我们（俩女孩），与我们交谈，帮助我们把注意力从眼前困难的处境中移开，并在必要时拉我们一把。我之所以能继续走下去，有一部分是因为有他的帮助。
随着我们到达的海拔越来越高，风在我们脸上呼啸得越来越猛烈。我的手脚在手套和鞋子里几乎都麻木得感觉不到了。雨水滴落模糊了我的视线，从我脸颊滑落。我踉踉跄跄地走着，虽然醒着却更像在做梦。除了刺骨的寒冷和疲惫，我对四周几乎失去了意识。脑子一片空白无法运转。我只知道我想停下来，躺在地上休息，休息，休息……
最后，亲爱的读者们，我很抱歉地说，我们谁也没有到达顶峰。Gloria和我从4800米高度原路返回，姑父和Josh到达了5000米高度。糟糕的天气是大伙儿无法登顶的“罪魁祸首”，正如Marty所说，“我从未在哈巴见过如此恶劣的天气。”
但对我来说，我的第一次登山之旅对我来说意义重大，就我个人而言，这是一次胜利。我经历了前所未有的爱和支持。Gloria、姑父和Josh都多少帮助我达到了我的目的地。老实说，如果没有他们，我可能只会达到4300米多一点。我将永远记得姑父对“姑娘们”的一再鼓励，以及Gloria对我充满希望的温情的话语，尽管她其实和我一样累。我要特别补充的是，我从Josh那里得到的支持令我大吃一惊。我不知道Josh有这种充满爱和怜悯的一面，因为在我的眼里，他一直是那个顽皮的小男孩--用枕头打我，满屋子追我，带着各种尖叫。然而，在我整个攀登过程中最艰难的时刻，是Josh帮助我度过了难关。他没有太多的话语，但我知道他是真诚的，这才是最重要的。当我回味起那些有限的瞬间时，我仍然倍感温暖，虽然短暂，但它们一直留在我的心底。
当我展望未来时，我知道还会有其它面临苦难和孤独的时刻，会有雨夹雪刺痛我的脸，会有风在我周围嘲弄地吹，会有浓厚的灰色迷雾试图吞噬我。会有一些时刻，我觉得自己再也走不下去了。但在所有这些时候，有一件事永远不会改变，就是无论我感到多么的绝望，我仍然有一位父亲，祂永远不会改变，在任何境遇中，祂总是伸出爱手，随时乐意倾听我的祷告，就像在哈巴度过的那个不眠之夜。我坚信祂会帮助我度过人生中的每一个难关。除了祂，我知道在未来的艰难时期，我的父母、家人和我在基督里真正的朋友也会一直站在我身边，就像我的表亲和姑父帮助我上山一样。所以，我将永远记住Josh的话，“永远都有希望。”这希望不在腐朽的世界里，不在任何世俗的人身上，不在“相信一切都会变得更好”的信念中，而是在上帝身上。
时光飞逝，一周后，我们的大家庭不得不再次分道扬镳。我们最后一次一起乘车前往西安机场，在那里我们将返回广州，Gloria和家人们将前往北京。当我们分别时（我们大多数人都哭了），Josh拥抱了我，他对我说的最后一句话是：“你在那座山上做得很好。比Gloria好多了。”失声痛哭的我当时唯一还能组织起的语言就是“谢谢”。这也是每当我谈论或想起哈巴时，我都会想到的。我想对我的姑父，Marty，我杰出的表亲，我的父母说声“谢谢”，最重要的是，感谢上帝。现在我真正明白了我为何能够到达新的高度。我的信心和力量只有一部分来自于我自己，其余的来自天上、我的家人和朋友。我所取得的成就并不是因为我的体力，甚至不是因为我的意志力；而是怜悯、希望、信任，最重要的，是爱。
从左到右: 姑父, Josh, Gloria, 我, Marty