A Small Hand Proffered
By Brittney Eggleston
Photos by Karl Eggleston
Sun shining, a breeze caressing my neck. Not a cloud in the sky on this July day in 2020, and we were able to get an early start on the trail up to Goat Lake in the Sawtooth Range. As we walked, chipmunks scurried across the forest floor. Birds entertained us with their melodies to the background sound of rushing water from a creek that glided and wound down the mountain. Being captivated by a mesmerizing forest is my hiking dream, but this one was interrupted abruptly.
“No, I cannot do it and I won’t do it. I am sitting right here and not moving from this rock. You won’t make me!”
My husband Karl and I assured Joslyn, our six-year-old, that she was amazing and could do hard things, but to no avail. She was adamant that she would not move another muscle.
“I am not going on.”
I asked her what was wrong, and reminded her of the hard things she already had accomplished. I begged her to move, I bribed her with all the treats in my backpack, but not even her favorite sour candies would budge our little girl.
“We’re so close,” I pleaded. “Can’t you hear the pounding of the waterfall? I bet within another half-hour or so we’ll be there.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to see the waterfall anyway.”