Never Alone

As Tim took one last swing at the pine tree, the ax resounded and a slow snapping sound sang through the small valley. “Look out!” Tim shouted.

Jeff sidestepped the falling tree, then he noticed Tim had lost his footing and was tumbling down the long, steep hill just beyond the fallen tree. Jeff slid to where his brother lay against a huge rock, his leg twisted into an unnatural position beneath him. “Tim! Tim! Are you all right?” But there was no answer.

Snow was beginning to fall in huge soft flakes, and Jeff fell to his knees to brush it off Tim’s face. “Wake up, Tim,” Jeff urged.

After a long moment, Tim slowly opened his eyes.

“Thank goodness!” Jeff said. “What happened?”

“I slipped trying to get out of the way of the tree,” Tim answered slowly.

“Can you walk?” Jeff asked as his older brother slowly rolled over and tried to sit up.

“Oh, boy!” Tim cried. “Something’s wrong with my leg. I can’t put any weight on it.”

“Maybe it’s broken,” Jeff said, afraid to think what that might mean. His heart felt as though it were made of lead. He and Tim had come to the mountains early to open the cabin and to cut a Christmas tree. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve and the rest of the family wouldn’t arrive until then for the family’s traditional holiday in the mountains.

“I don’t know,” Tim replied. But the pain in his voice said more than the words.

Jeff looked across the white and green patchwork on the mountain. The sun disappearing on the other side meant that there was probably an hour left before total darkness settled over the valley. The cabin was about fifty yards away. Tim’s so heavy, how am I ever going to carry him there? Jeff wondered. And once we get there, then what? There’s no phone in the cabin and nobody around for miles. I’ll probably have to get to the main highway to find help and that’s ten miles away!

Tim must have been thinking the same thing. “Jeff, there’s no time to waste,” he said. “I think I can drag myself back to the cabin. If you take off now and hurry, you’ll make it to the highway for help just after dark. Think you can do it?”

“But I can’t leave you alone like this!”

Tim’s face was pinched with pain. “You have to, Jeff,” he urged. “I need help!”

Jeff hesitated, but only for a moment. “All right. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Then he turned and began to carefully make his way down the snowy mountain. When Jeff tried to go faster, he slipped and fell. Picking himself up he glanced back up the hill.

Tim had moved about fifteen feet. “Hurry,” Tim called. “I’ll be all right.”

Jeff zipped his coat up around his neck to keep out the snow and went on. Soon he reached a narrow winding roadway. The road wasn’t as steep or rocky as the mountain path so he started jogging. He looked back, but Tim and the cabin were out of view.

Dusk settling over the quiet valley gave the towering pines a spooky look. The snow muffled any sounds except the thud, thud, thudding of Jeff’s feet. “Faster, faster, faster,” he kept repeating, his breath looking like smoke in the cold air. And his feet did move faster and faster, even though they slipped and stumbled on the road. Then a pain in his side forced him to slow to a walk. The falling snow had covered the narrow road, making it hard to tell which way to go. And now Jeff realized the darkness was coming faster than expected. The whole valley was suffused in shadows and deadly silence, with the mountains towering on either side like giants. Jeff had never felt so alone, so helpless, so scared. “What if I don’t make it?” he whispered then stopped himself. “I can’t think like that,” he said to convince himself. “I have to make it. I will make it!”

The dark world around him became colder and more frightening, and there was no moon yet. But fortunately the snow had stopped and a few stars were showing through the cloudy black sky.

Jeff began to run again as he searched his mind for something to think about to keep away the fear. Suddenly a cracking noise stopped him. He listened intently but there was only silence. “Must have been a limb breaking under the weight of the snow,” he mumbled, looking around. In the darkness everything seemed huge and threatening. But the worst feeling was that of loneliness.

Quickly Jeff’s mind reached for a thought, any thought. Slowly some familiar words began to form in his head. What were they? Night … star … brightly … then he remembered. They were words from one of the songs he’d sung for the Christmas sacrament meeting program: “O holy night! The stars are brightly shining; it is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth. … ”

Jeff hadn’t thought much about the words then, but now in the cold darkness they were taking on new meaning. He looked up. There was only one star shining mistily through the clouds. As he stared at it, the song became more than mere words. And finally he began to understand what the words meant.

Slowly more of the song drifted through his mind. “In all our trials, born to be our friend … ”

It was starting to snow again. “This certainly is a trial and I sure need a friend,” he murmured.

He watched the snow, letting the thoughts float freely through his mind. “He was born and He died because He loved me so much,” Jeff whispered into the darkness. “He is my friend.”

A beautiful feeling of comfort replaced the fear and worry in Jeff’s heart.

“I’m not alone,” he said loudly, “and I know Tim is going to be all right.”

With snow falling again, Jeff dropped to his knees. “Heavenly Father, I thank Thee for Christmas and for Thy Son and for being with me. I know Thou wilt be with my brother too. Please lead me to someone who can help us …”