What does it cost me to reach out my hand and grasp another’s?
You have placed me at these heights, when I pull up my brethren, I am still standing. Why, then, do I hesitate?
Lord, I am striding along your high ridgelines, breathing the mountain wind. While I am here, let me maintain the track, that those behind me will find easier walking.
Let me no longer be miserly with the well-being you pour down upon me.
(Letter #2,184)
