自強之路

I used to go hiking on Woo-fon Mountain with my parents and my brother on weekends, and I liked the family gathering this way very much. Since having been in the third year of senior high, I was reluctant  but had to quit this activity which was meaningful to me. I still remembered some of the beautiful sceneries there, the birds tweeting, the fresh air, and, what the most unforgettable was, a tree on the top of the mountain.

You can easily spot the tree even when you are on the half of the meandering mountain paths. It looks so robust, firmly rooted on the ground next to an antique pavilion, like a faithful soldier on the post, guarding for his foster. It also reminds me of my dear old grandpa, who was ernest and determined, always giving not only me but my brother a strong sense of security and warmth. Everytime when I felt frustrated, I would soon get over as soon as I thought of my grandpa. And the tree, waiting for me every weekend, seemingly smiling at me and ready to give me a hug, was exactly the embodiment of my grandpa's kindness. Though I could not visit him every week, I might at least go to the tree more often.

As my family finally got the top, I sat in the pavilion with my eyes closed, enjoying the tender breeze brushing through my face, forgetting the sweating and gasping way up to the top. Then I would open my eyes, skimming over the verdure, as the rewards for the toil along the climbing, gratifying for everything I now owned, and turn to the old tree, "Thank you for all this, Grannie, because were it not you, I could never be so satisfied with what I have now. I am the happiest girl in Taiwan!"