2021 Writing Contest 2nd Place Submission, Level B
The Summit of Trust by Quinn O.
What is trust? Trust is believing without understanding. It is rejecting fear. It is accepting genuine relationships. Like a towering skyscraper, trust has a crucial foundation. Without competence, virtue, and benevolence, this attribute would hopelessly crumble into irreparably shattered pieces. Instead of contempt, it demonstrates respect and generosity. Basically, trust is the “assured reliance in the character, ability, strength, or integrity of someone or something” (merriam-webster.com). Fondly I recollect an afternoon in May 2017 when my mom deservedly gained my trust through her inspiring motivation, inherent responsiveness, and incessant loyalty.
Encompassed by colossal cliffs and soaring evergreens, bountiful blooms delicately emerged from the sodden soil. Peeking from behind a puttering canopy of clouds, the buoyant sun dispersed its tranquil coziness. Spring had arrived. Embarking on our annual escapade, my mom and I had recently arrived in icebound Alaska where we zealously scaled Flattop Mountain. Initially formed by meandering switchbacks and thawing patches of snow, the trail was now riddled with abysmal sludge and wobbling boulders. With three miles behind us, my fatigued legs torturously throbbed. Disheartened and pessimistic, I doubtfully lagged. Uttering inspirations, Mom alluded to my evident brawn and perpetual persistence. Confident that we wouldn’t be a delectable lunch to any ravenous, post-hibernation bears, she motioned toward the nearing snow-capped summit. Her determination inspired me to persist. Although I doubted myself, Mom earned my trust because she motivated me.
“Are you ready for this?” Mom inquired. As menacing rocks loomed several hundred feet beneath me, I precariously clambered up the precipitous ascent. Deliriously, my heart pounded. While Mom repetitively jabbed footholds in the snow, I lethargically mimicked her maternal resourcefulness. At a perilous seventy-degree incline, we scrambled up the final three hundred feet. Prompting perseverance, she reminded me of the winter hours we had spent training at the rock-climbing gym. Somehow she knew just what to say, just where to direct me, and just how to keep up my spirits. Mom’s innate responses to my needs encouraged trust in her and confidence in myself.
Symbolizing our triumph, a vibrant American flag illustriously rippled in the wind. Savagely, the bitter breeze battered us, but we scarcely noticed. Through near falls and frightening rockslides, Mom stood by me. When tears filled my petrified eyes and I timidly hesitated, Mom obstinately refused to let me quit. Without an utterance, every look and every helping hand communicated her wholehearted devotion to my success. Her loyalty was obvious. On the blustery pinnacle of Flattop Mountain, Mom and I contentedly gazed at the enchanting panorama and smiled at each other triumphantly.
My mom motivates me, responds to me, and stands by me. She has deservedly obtained my trust. If it weren’t for her persistent loyalty, I would have squandered the enthralling opportunity to hike an arctic mountain. All in all, without my trustworthy mom I would have never reached the summit of Mt. Flattop.