Troubles Are Like Snow Falling. They Are Persistent, Until The Sunlight Comes.

"Trouble knocks at my door persistently. Stubbornly.

Patience lets it in. I groan as I overflow with Trouble that even my patience can't handle.

Another week is done, a relaxing weekend now.

Silence. Oh Silence.

The beauty of waking up without an annoying alarm to jostle you awake in the morning.

Snow falls outside.

The bluebirds chirp outside, singing gracefully their yearly song.

I groan out of bed, and still in my pajamas, walk downstairs to greet my mom, who is making pancakes for me and my brother. Who went to practice.

"Good morning, Ma."

"Good morning sleepy head. Are you doing anything with your friend later?" She asks, nosing into my day.

"Yeah. I'm ready..." I say, drowsily. I look at my phone. Three missed calls, five unread messages, and a calendar update.

I read the texts. They're all from my best friend, Trinity.

'Are you up?', 'Get up you sleepy head!',

"Fartknocker! I'm gonna be late!"

I was going on a hike with my best friend in an hour!

I rushed back upstairs after punching down three pancakes, got dressed, made my lunch, packed my bag, and took some pancakes to go.

"Bye, Mom! I'll see you later!"

"ETA for home?"

"I'll text you!!"

I rush out the door, keys in hand, and I drive to her place.

"Sup," She says, "Let me in, Polly."

"Sup. I'm just making room, Tri"

She gets into the car, and we start to drive.

"How was your week?" Tri asks. She is in another school, but we still are the best of friends.

"Same as last week. Long, and repetitive."

"Ouch..."

"How was yours?"

"Better... Lots of homework, but thankfully easy homework."

"Good. How's your family with the breakup?"

"Still a lot of broken things, but we're trying to mend them together still. And we're trying to give them as much love as possible."

We sit in silence as the car rumbles under us.

"Everything going good at your house?" Tri asks solemnly, "Your relationship with your mom going good?"

"Not really... She has been getting nosier and nosier every weekend." I say, still looking at the road.

To break the silence I turn on the radio, and blast the 80s and 90s music and sing to the lyrics.

After what feels like an eternity, we find a sign that points to a parking lot. It says, "Pine Hill Hike"

"We're here!" I say triumphantly.

I turn into the parking lot. A few cars are there but are deserted.

They get all the good parking spots because there are few, so we had to park a little ways back. After a while of getting our stuff situated and on our bodies, we finally get to the start of the hike.

We look at each other, smile, and take one of the many steps, on this long journey. The road is narrow but goes so many different ways. Up, down, left, right, around the hill, through the hill, over the hill, under the trees, beside the trees, everywhere...

"You know Polly," Tri starts, "How long could you say that we could survive out here?"

"Maybe a few weeks. I don't know about you though."

We laugh.

The trees surround us in white beauty, and the blue jays soar and hop along in the air.

"Want to know what I learned yesterday?" Tri says.

"What did you learn?" I ask, curious.

"A 21-year-old girl in 1963, her name was Sophie Scholl, was executed for leading student resistance against Hitler. Her last words were: "How can we expect righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone willing to give himself up individually to a righteous cause? Such a fine sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter If through us thousands of people are awakened and stirred to action?""

We walk in silence. The words dangling in our heads, unable to ignore the uncomfortable truth molded into them.

"Wow." I chuckle, "It really was that bad."

"Yep..." she gasps.

"What?"

"Look!" She points at a deer and a buck grazing. Trying to find bits of grass still in the ground.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" I breathe. Tri nods in agreement.

We soon get to a spot with rocks, and we lay down after wiping them free of snow.

"You know what I learned this week Tri?" I say.

"Sure. Lemme have it."

"Troubles can be overwhelming and we need to just unplug from life once in a while to get things going again."

"Huh..." She says, she looks at the ground and sees poison ivy, bluebells, poppies, and mint.

"What?"

"I'm reminded of a Forrest Gump quote."

"Which one? "Run, Forrest, Run!"?"

"No. "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."" Tri sighs.

"Very and quite true. But sometimes the chocolates could be filled with things you don't like, and the other eats one that is filled with caramel and joy and easy living," I rant, "and you eat one that's filled with mint and homework, and a nosy mom."

"I like mint!" Tri says.

"I'm talking about myself. I hate mint. Everyone else likes mint. I just don't know why. It's too... peppery. Too..." I shudder at finding a perfect-tasting thing that matches peppermint and mint.

She laughs and we continue walking in silence.

We look out onto the horizon. The snow-covered hills, trees, and forest floor. Animals walking slowly across, bluejays soaring around the frostbitten air.

"Troubles are like snow falling. They fall, and they feel like they are never going to go away until the sunlight comes." Tri says, breaking the silence.

The metaphor thaws my troubles a bit, making them realize that they are much smaller than they appear to be.

We stare off into the distance, and after what feels like an eternity, we get up and start finishing our journey to the peak.

We laugh at our stories, gossiping about stories we told each other.

Once we got to the peak, the sight was breathtaking...

The snow falling, the wintery trees, and the snow-capped mountains as background.

We see Deer, bluejays, robins, and the occasional black bear.

Trouble melts away as we look at this scene.

Our hearts overflow with peace, tranquility, and wonder as we stand there. Looking over this powdered forest.

We breathe with the earth. Our bodies swayed with the tree branches. Feet rooted into the ground like plants. Mind wandering and jumping like a deer. Heart pounding like the running footsteps of the squirrel.

We breathe together and sigh at the beauty.

"Beautiful..." Tri whispers.

The sun rises high above us, and we sit down to eat lunch. A little bench sits there.

"I'm hungry..." Tri admits.

"Hi hungry, I'm Polly." I laugh.

"Very funny," she replies, "We could sit here." She motions to the little old bench.

I sit down first, open my bag and grab our two sandwiches.

Tri starts to eat her sandwich and starts inspecting the bench.

I enjoy my sandwich and eat it slowly, while Tri finishes it in less than five minutes.

"Hey look at this, Polly." She says.

"What?" I turn around to see a name etched in the wood.

"What does it say?" Tri questions.

"Flo and Molly," She says slowly, "Molly is my mother's name."

"And Flo is my mother's name..." I say, "Coincidence?"

"Maybe... Let me ask my mom." Tri says, she brings out her phone and calls her mom.

"Hey mom, have you gone on a hike with Polly's mom?"

"Why yes. A few times, but it was only on one hike. I think it was the Pine Hill Hike."

We look at each other intently.

"Did you etch your names into a bench?" Tri asks.

"Yes...? How did you know that? Did you ask Polly's mom?"

"No, just wondering..."

"Alright."

"I love you, mom, bye!"

"Love you too honey."

She ends the call and brings out a pocket knife.

"Want to?" Tri asks.

I nod.

We etch our own names underneath our moms.

Triumphant, we stand up to admire our work.

"We should get going. C'mon." I say.

And our journey down the hill was uneventful. New surprises along the way, but still fun with a friend.

We pack our stuff up and get going home. A loud car whizzes by anyone who drives near us.

We sing, yell, scream, and laugh all the way home. satisfied with our hike, helping others who couldn't find their way.

Trouble leaves my head, and Peace, calmness, and eternal rest waltz in. Their melody makes me sleepy."

"Thank you for that wonderful story, Grandma," Tink says, happily.

"Anytime munchkin," I reply. Now an old lady on her last strings, my life has been that whole story.

"Honey. We have to leave. We will see her another time." Lucia says. My daughter.

"Honey. Remember that hike we went on with your friend?" I feebly say.

"Why yes. The Pine Hill Hike? Where we etched our names into the bench?"

I smile at the memory.

I motion her to lean in.

"Take her too. For many generations and more..." I say.

"Mama?" Tink says.

"Yes, honey?"

"Why are you crying?"

"Just a fond memory has been made." She replies to her daughter.

"Lucia?"

"Yes?"

"I hope to see you again. Again, I will not say that whole story again, because it has already been completed." I say with a smile and a tear.

My daughter smiles, and cries.

"Goodbye, Mother. I love you. Say goodbye to your grandmother. You'll see her next time" Lucia says to my granddaughter.

"Maybe in another life," I say, loud enough for Lucia to hear, but not enough for Tink to hear.

Lucia puts her hand to her mouth, her eyes widen, and a tear falls down her cheek.

I give her a smile, and she returns it.

Tink runs over and hugs me.

"Bye Grandma! Love you."

"Bye Tink, my favorite Granddaughter ever," I say, tears in my eyes.

"But I'm your only granddaughter!" Tink laughs.

"Go with your mother little one," I say.

"Bye, Mother. I'll see you up there in a while."

"Bye, daughter. I hope to not see you sooner!" I chuckle and smile my last.

The innocent duo walks out of my room.

And the names of our family, now etched in wood.

And the last words of my story are now etched in everyone's minds,

forever.