Chapter Nine
The mountain could not walk to the next valley to see what the people were looking at. It could not go to the library or drive a car around the bend. Mountains have only so many ways to get information!
The mountain had to ask nearby mountains, which is harder than people think. Not all mountains are curious, and some sleep most of the time. But they gradually woke up and started something which had not happened for a while—a real mountain conversation.
As they talked, other mountains asked what all the hubbub was about. The mountain explained that it had been watching people for a long time, and it wondered why they stood on the mountain across the valley and looked behind it. Word of this eventually got to the mountains on the other side, and they sent back a message.
They said a mountain there had crevasses which made a certain shape. One crevasse ran up and down the steep side of the mountain, in almost a straight line. Another ran horizontally across the same side of the mountain. The mountains said the people called this the “Mount of the Holy Cross,” because in summer snow lingers in these crevasses long after it melts from the rest of the face.
“Holy Cross,” the mountain thought to itself, “what is that?” So the mountain asked more questions, and soon the mountains’ talk ran far from the local valleys. It ran up north, clear to the Arctic, and down south, all the way to the Antarctic. Mountains under the sea started talking—some, like Hawaii, which stick above the water, and others which remain below. And the talk went even further, all the way to Asia and Europe, until all the mountains of the world were discussing what this one mountain wanted to know.
After a few years, messages started coming back. The mountain learned the Creator had long used mountains to talk to people! The Creator gave certain people a law on Mount Sinai, and the people then built a city on another mountain. When these people could not obey His law, the Creator Himself became human, and He showed His glory on Mount Tabor. Many of the people did not like Him, however, and they killed Him outside their city, at a place called Mount Golgotha. The Creator had died on a cross, the mountains explained to each other, and people are reminded of this when they see the snow-filled crevasses.
The mountain became very, very quiet, even as the mountains around it kept talking. The mountain had always thought it lived longer than people, but if the Creator had become a man, maybe people (in some way) live longer than mountains! And maybe that is why the Creator chose mountains as a place to meet people. Only something as big and permanent as a mountain would do.
The mountain thought of the people who had died on its sides or inside the mines. The mountain also thought of the people buried in it, especially the little girl whose parents had come back to set up a new gravestone. The mountain felt something, though it did not know what. Finally, the mountain realized what it felt—that it was mortal. Even it would wear down some day, something the mountain had never really considered.
The other mountains gradually quieted down, and some went back to sleep. The mountain, however, kept thinking. It wanted to give the Creator glory, like the Mount of the Holy Cross did. But the mountain did not look special or have anything else to set it apart.
Finally, the mountain came to a conclusion. If the Creator had showed His glory on a mountain, then maybe the mountain could give glory to the Creator just by being itself! This was comforting, and the mountain decided it should keep watching people. It was happy whenever someone climbed it, especially when they reached the top. There they could look out in all directions. The people were changed somehow by the mountain top, and the mountain thought it knew why.
