The boy stood into a cold wind blowing across the snow that tugged at his parka with a rap-tap-tap, and looked down upon a raising sun. The sight to him was unique, awesome, as with all children the excitement of witnessing another of the endless wonders of the world unfold, filled his body with a tingling delight.

His appreciation was such that he suddenly wanted to turn to his companions of this climbing party—a world traveling doctor, a blasé newspaper photographer, a teacher who seemed to know everything—and shout, "Hey everybody, look at the sun coming up through the clouds, below. I've never watched dawn break from high up on a mountain. Isn't it fantastic?"

Instead he kept his silence. From the start, the boy, being so extremely young when compared to these men, had become an object of humor. Every question of his seemed to be laughed at. His opinions had been ridiculed. After all, he was just a "kid" of thirteen.

The boy resented the un-voiced question, asking if a 'youngster' should even be allowed to try and climb the mountain. He was as good a mountaineer as most of them. He had been a skier for over six years. He had already climbed Mt. St. Helens. His energy was boundless. He was anxious to head for the top of Mt. Hood before the sun melted the top layer of snow, and made the footing unsafe. At the least, their attitude had tempered this grand adventure, taken a bit of top off of the top of the morning.

However, it was at this moment of the boy's self-pity that the group's guide walked across the short distance separating the two distinctly different generations, his crampons biting the slope with a rolling crunch, and laid a bulky mitten of the boy's shoulder. "Beautiful, isn't it son?" was his only comment, as he too watched the shadows disappear from the prominent pinnacles on the ice-encased peak.

Somehow this question required a reply, and the boy gambled. "That's Illumination Rock over there, isn't it?"
"Yup, see how it catches the sun's rays. Reminds me of the three brothers from a wealthy New England family that came out here to make their fortune in the cattle business. They decided they needed a town, and wrote to their mother to give her the honor of choosing it's name. She sent a telegram that said, 'Call it Focus!" They did, and years later began to wonder why. This she answered with a reasoning that, "Focus is where the sun's rays meet."

"Ha ha ha ha haw." the guide laughed to himself, "Get it?"
" No."
"Well like the fellow who had an egg cracked over his head, the yoke is on you, kid."

The boy turned away and began to play with his ice axe in the snow to hide his feeling. Because of this he almost didn't hear the guide add, "Well, hey, since you seem to have so much energy, why don't you chop the steps on the next pitch. I'll belay you."

"Thanks Mr. Leuthold," the boy answered in hopes that his tears would not show from behind the thick lenses of his snow goggles.

"You'll make it kid. Conquering this mountain will just be a beginning. We're all kind of proud of you, Barry."