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Tuesday, June 17, 2008

The Rope


There was once a mountain climber, who wanted to climb the highest mountain. He begun his adventure after many years of preparation, but since he wanted the glory just for himself, he decided to climb the mountain alone.

And lo, the journey begun, when the night felt heavy in the height of the mountain, and the man could not see anything. It’s so dark, all was black. A zero visibility, and the moon and the starts were covered by the clouds.

As he was climbing, and it’s like forever, only a few feet away from the top of the mountain, he slipped and fell into the air, falling at a great speed. The climber could only see black spots as he went down, and the terrible sensation of being swallowed by gravity. He keep falling…and falling, and in those moments of great fear, it came to his mind all the good things and bad things that had happened to his life.

He was thinking now about how close death was getting, and he closes his eyes; when all of a sudden he felt the rope tied to his waist pull him very hard. It’s tightening! His body was still hanging in the air. Only the rope was holding him, and in that moment of stillness, he had no other choice and he started to scream,
HELP ME, OH GOD!

He sobbed. Dreams failed, he would be remembered as someone who died in the mountain, in an accident in his quest for glory. He thinks of his family and friends, and those people he cared about. “Oh God, help me”, in the deepening silence of the night his voice is helpless and hopeless but he managed to call God.

All of a sudden, a deep voice coming from the sky answered:

“What do you want me to do?”

The climber answered, ‘Oh God, is that you? Save me my God!”

“Do you really think I can save you?” said the voice.

“Of course, I believe You can” said the climber.

“Then cut the rope tied to your waist…” ordered the Voice.

There was a moment of silence; and the man turn between two choices. He will cut the rope and fall or hold on till morning and wait for rescue.

He decided to hold on to the rope, and the Voice is not heard anymore.

The rescue team tells, that the next day a climber was found dead, and frozen…his body hanging from a rope. His hands holding tight to it…
ONLY 10 FEET AWAY FROM THE GROUND.

And we? How attached are we to our rope? What are the things that make us hold on to the rope, like fame, glory, worldly things, status and beauty. Are we willing to let go?





©2008 THOUGHTSKOTO