As 5 and 6 year olds, we idolized our neighborhood hero, Charlie, as King of the Mountain. After all he was 11 so he knew all the important things. Charlie showed us where the best mango trees were deep in the valley and how to find the best guava along the streams. So it was a no-brainer when he decided we were going to climb to the top of the mountain and plant our flag. My 5 year old sister, Fran, insisted on tagging along. I knew better – the climb was dangerous but I was too chicken to challenge Charlie. So up we went, barefoot and shorts. Half way up the mountain, we got stuck. We came face to face with a sheer rocky cliff. Franny started crying – she refused to climb higher and wouldn’t look down. She froze in panic. In the distance we could hear the sirens. Looking down to the street below, we could see a crowd gathered waving frantically, the red fire engine and ambulance close behind. Miraculously we saw my Dad climbing up out of the clearing below us – With a look of disappointment at me, he put my baby sister on his back and wordlessly carried her down to safety. Charlie disappeared. No matter. From that day forward I knew who the real King of the Mountain was, my Dad. Happy Father’s Day everybody! #love #family #father #hope
KING OF THE MOUNTAIN!
