We can’t help but see difficult news every day as a pandemic takes its human toll, fire ravages the land, snow and ice destroy homes, and the scourge of racism runs rampant through our communities. There are days where our world seems broken beyond repair.
At the end of the summer, 2020, my daughter, Lenka, and I looked forward to a day together hiking in the beautiful Columbia River Gorge in Oregon, an opportunity to cleanse our minds and souls. We chose a Wednesday, hoping that during mid-week there would be few people on the trail, mindful of the continuing pandemic and need for social distancing. Wearing masks, we drove the stunning Old Highway toward Mt. Hood to hike the Larch Mt. Trail.
The day appeared to be perfect. We deliberated about whether to begin by walking up a short trail to see the viewpoint first or wait until we had hiked for the day and finish at that spot. With the cloudless sky, we decided that beginning with a flawless view would be the best way to begin our hiking adventure.
Alone at the top, the panoramic view of five mountains was stunning. We took pictures, shared some fruit, and Lenka lamented that she had worn the wrong shoes.
The short path to the top had been steep but was paved and we enthusiastically began our way down to the main trail. As Lenka stopped to take a picture of an old-growth tree, I savored the experience, soaking in the beauty of our surroundings. And then I fell.
My ankle twisted, the path was steep, and I came crashing down on my left wrist. I can still replay the slow-motion reel in my mind. Knowing that I couldn’t stop this fall, the disappointment that our day could end, watching my hand and wrist meet the pavement and bend in a way that was not part of the design. Our day turned scary, and ugly, and broken, as I went into shock.
But then, a stranger appeared on the trail, revived and stabilized me, while reassuring Lenka that he was a physical therapist and I would be OK. A young couple interrupted their day of hiking with their family to call 911, sat with us while we waited for paramedics, providing compassion and kindness, water, and snacks. What was supposed to be a day of adventure in the Gorge, became a day of adventure in the ER. By evening, after many kind encounters in our fragmented world, I was left with a great deal of gratitude for the kindness of strangers, restoring my faith in the goodness of humanity.
I have no words of wisdom for dealing with the challenges in our world today, except the observation, that there is more good in the world than not, and sometimes we get broken, but we are always fixable.
