My mom and dad were back in the condominium. Meanwhile, I was having a great time tubing down the local snowy hills with my brother, Greg. Even though it was –16F and we couldn’t feel our toes, we were making the best of our winter vacation in Vermont. Yet I was very unaware of the upcoming event that would soon spoil my fun. It was 11:00 pm when we decided to head back to the ski resort that we stayed at (which was a short walk away). I saw my friend and started talking to him, so I sent Greg ahead of me. I chatted for a few minutes, but knowing that my parents would be worried if I didn’t get home soon, I said good night and resumed my trek to the condo. A few steps later, I spotted something like a huge tree trunk ascending into the dark midnight. It had no leaves or branches, just wires. Logic settled in my mind; I had come across a ski lift pole. This was not unordinary, seeing that I was walking near a ski resort. Proud of myself for figuring that out, I passed by. But strangely, I found myself walking back to it. The urge that then came over me is quite unexplainable, but for some odd reason, I stuck my tongue to the pole. I pulled. It didn’t come off as easily in this kind of weather as it did when I put it on the freezer at home. So I tugged much harder, yet it still didn’t come off. Realizing my helplessness, I started screaming at the top of my lungs in hopes that some passer-bye would come to my rescue.Even though my throat was starting to hurt, I kept screaming. My next mistake was as terrible as the first one. While I began shouting for help, my lips adhered to the pole as well. I panicked and started screaming as loud as I could. I knew that God would not forsake the cry of His children, especially those who had their tongues stuck to ski lift poles. I stopped yelling for a second, and in that precious second, I saw people not too far off. I screamed to them and flailed my limbs so they ...
