OK, let me start.... It was back in 1963 that the church, which supported me as a Hungarian emigrant, had an outing with the young people to the New England area. I remember as our bus passed by the Old Man Mountain in New Hampshire. Couldn't believe that the face of an old man was the result of thousands of years of erosion due to water and ice, and was not carved by men. It was an awe inspiring picture (shown below). But not as much as when we arrived to New England's highest peak, Mt. Washington. Our bus put us down at the foot of the mountain. It was Easter Sunday. The weather was cold, but not unbearable. We expected the sun to come out at any time. We climbed the mountain almost to the top. We had a small plateau of clearing. Our pastor, Rev. Luis R. Beckwith, made us sit down. We were facing East, where the sun was about to come up. Rev. Beckwith opened his Bible, read a passage, and prayed. The young people broke into singing. I recognized the melody of an old Gospel Hymn, but since I did not speak a word of English at the time, I was singing along in Hungarian. When the pastor was reading the Scriptures I sensed that he was reading the resurrection story of long ago. I looked at the faces of those young people, and as they huddled together in the cold, I could see a greater appreciation in their hearts for the spoken Word, and the soul lifting singing. It felt like we were on the way to the sepulcher, as we were pondering in our hearts as to "who will roll away the stone?" But the stone was already rolled away.... Well, we were hardly there for 30 minutes when our guide turned our direction to the neighboring mountain, toward South-East. The mountain was covered with cloud. Although I did not understand the conversation, I gathered the urgency, for in less than a minute we were heading up to the top of the mountain, where there supposed to be an observatory with souvenir stands. The mountain trail was steep and ruggedly. We were not fast enough, the clouds all of a sudden engulfed us. It was an eerie feeling. We were told to hold each other's hands, and formed a great living chain. The scary thing about all this was that we couldn't even see our outstretched arms in front of us. Couldn't see our feet below. Everything looked like some grey mist. The cloud was moist and cold. Our guide must have felt the path before him. We were dragged by the person in front of us, and in turn we pulled the person behind us. We must have walked like this for about 20 minutes, which seemed to be like eternity. Some of the younger kinds sounded scary as they yelled out from time to time. But they were shouting with joy when the message came that the top of the chain has reached the observatory. It was about 6,288 feet where we reached safe haven. When inside, we could not see a thing through the window... but inside it was warm, cozy, inviting, friendly, reassuring, and just like home. I never forget the experience. Later on in the storms of life I always reminded myself of the safe haven on top of Mt. Washington, and it reminded me of the greatest safe haven, the Lord Jesus Christ! P.S. Did you hear that just recently the Old Man Maintain in New Hampshire just collapsed. The granite facade of the mountain came down with the passing of winter. I cannot imagine people going to Mt. Washington and not greeted by the old man on the way. The Governor of New Hampshire promised to rebuild the facade, so I hope that countless of generations could be greeted by the man of the mountain! P.P.S. If you have a memorable story, we'd like you to share it with us on this thread.