When you are down, when you are wounded, when you are scared,
sometimes all you need, is a shoulder to lean on, a pair of hands to
hold. Someone to look you in the eyes, and whisper caring words,
letting you know that your will be taken care of, that things will
work out fine.
As you look into eyes of sincerity and care, it makes you feel better.
The hot men of ski patrol, who slalom down the mountains with ease,
looking for injured souls to save, to help, to share their love and
care.
It’s a job that comes with unspoken responsibilities, to care, to
comfort, to assure. The clinics are numb toward the emotional side of
human suffering, they have seen too many broken shoulders, twisted
ankles and sprained knees to be sympathetic. The ski patrols are the
missing connections wounded hearts seek out, to know that someone
cares, the pain is held and nurtured.
This is to the hot men of the ski patrol, because you care, because
you were there. Because you held me when I am scared, when I was a
mess and in pain. I will always remember your face of kindness and
gentle assurance, letting me know that I will be okay, because you
will make sure of that.
p.s. I emailed Kirkwood to ask them to pass this along to the ski patrol team.