by Grace Mirchandani

Created on: June 02, 2008   Last Updated: February 17, 2009

It was cold. I was wet from my knees to my toes. I was an awkward four-year-old girl trying desperately to keep pace with my older brother Josh, who at eight was stronger and tougher than any other kid I had ever known. The woods behind our upstate New York home seemed enormous and foreboding to me.

The pine tree jungle had been filled with what seemed like many feet of snow the night beforethe thick wet snow that's perfect for making snowballs and forts, but not so perfect for my four-year-old legs to clamber through. My mother had bundled me up in layers of cotton shirts and bulky sweaters and my favorite light purple rubber boots and sent Josh and I off on our hiking adventure.

I remember we had just climbed over the big fallen tree, just out of the security of the house's sight. Josh had grown impatient with me because it took me a while to make it over that giant slippery trunk. We went a few more paces into the woods when nature's silence was awakened with a loud "crack-shrlirp!" My perfect little purple boot had broken through some ice in a creek-bed and I was stuck!

I shouted for my brother to come help meto set me free Josh came to my aid quickly but there was nothing he could do. He tried pulling my leg to remove my foot from the boot entirely. His efforts only resulted in me falling to the wet ground and shrieking from the cold and pain. I was panicked.

I knew that there was only one thing to do: He had to leave me to get help. He had to leave me alone in the woods. I begged him not to go. I pleaded. But alas, he left with the promise that he would be a quick as he could. As I sat alone, soaking wet, on the ground, clutching at my ankletrying to free it from under the ice, the woods seemed to shrink in around me. I was terrified. What if they can't find me? What if Josh forgets to get help? What if it gets dark and the animals come and eat me?
Just when I thought all hope was lost I heard the distant sound of footsteps.

I yelled out "help! I'm over here!" My oldest brother Noel had come to my rescue. He was strong and pulled my foot out of my water filled boot. I remember the "schlupmph" sound my foot made as it was released from its ice-water prison. Even Noel could not free my purple boot from the ice. He put me up and over his shoulder and as he started the journey home, I watched my precious boot growing smaller and smaller.

My mother was quick to warm my feet and comfort me after my ordeal. That winter passed without further incident and summer came and left as quickly as it could. Many seasons came and went and I now wonder if my brothers knew that on that day they both became heroes to their four-year-old sister. And I can't help but wonder if that boot is still in the woods where I left it over 24 years ago.

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