Every summer, fourteen-year-old Caleb visited his grandfather in the countryside.
Grandpa loved walking.
Unfortunately, Caleb did not.
Grandpa could happily spend an entire afternoon wandering along trails, climbing hills, and exploring places Caleb was perfectly satisfied seeing from the car.
One Saturday morning, Grandpa announced they were going hiking.
“There’s something I want to show you.”
“How far?”
“Not far.”
Caleb had learned that when Grandpa said not far, comfortable shoes were required.
They set off after breakfast.
For the first hour, Caleb enjoyed himself.
Then the trail started climbing.
And climbing.
And climbing.
“How much farther?” Caleb asked.
“Not far.”
“You said that an hour ago.”
Grandpa laughed.
They continued.
Eventually, they reached a steep hill.
Caleb stopped.
His legs were tired.
His shirt was soaked with sweat.
“I’ve had enough.”
“We’re almost there,” Grandpa said.
“You’ve been saying that forever.”
Caleb dropped onto a rock.
“I’m going back.”
Grandpa didn’t argue.
Instead, he sat beside him.
They drank some water and rested.
After a few minutes, Grandpa pointed toward the top of the hill.
“See that tree?”
Caleb nodded.
“Don’t think about reaching the top. Just get to that tree.”
Caleb reluctantly stood.
They walked to the tree.
“Now what?” he asked.
Grandpa pointed farther ahead.
“See that big rock?”
Caleb sighed.
“Seriously?”
“Just the rock.”
So they walked to the rock.
Then another tree.
Then a bend in the trail.
Each time Caleb wanted to stop, Grandpa gave him one small destination.
Finally, Caleb reached the top of the hill.
He bent over, exhausted.
“Please tell me we’re done.”
Grandpa smiled.
“Turn around.”
Caleb did.
He froze.
Below them stretched an enormous valley surrounded by green hills.
A river twisted through the landscape, shining beneath the afternoon sun.
In the distance, mountains disappeared into the clouds.
Caleb stared silently.
“Wow.”
Grandpa sat on a nearby rock.
“Worth another ten minutes?”
Caleb laughed.
“Definitely.”
As they ate their sandwiches overlooking the valley, Grandpa asked,
“Do you know how close you were to missing this?”
Caleb looked back toward the trail.
“Pretty close.”
“That’s the problem with quitting.”
Grandpa took a bite of his sandwich.
“You rarely know what’s waiting just beyond the point where you feel like stopping.”
Years later, Caleb would remember that hill many times.
He remembered it during university when he nearly dropped a difficult class.
“Just one more hill.”
He remembered it while applying for jobs after receiving rejection after rejection.
“One more application.”
He remembered it when he started a small business and spent months wondering whether it would survive.
“One more month.”
Not every situation worked out.
Sometimes pushing further simply taught Caleb that it really was time to change direction.
But he learned not to make that decision in the middle of exhaustion.
He learned to rest before quitting.
To break enormous challenges into smaller ones.
One page.
One phone call.
One workout.
One application.
One difficult conversation.
One more attempt.
Over time, Caleb discovered that many of the things he was most proud of had happened shortly after moments when he nearly stopped.
The qualification he almost abandoned.
The job he nearly stopped applying for.
The friendship he nearly gave up repairing.
The goal that took much longer than expected.
Years later, Caleb took his own daughter hiking along the same trail.
Halfway up the final hill, she stopped.
“I’m tired.”
Caleb smiled.
For a moment, he could almost hear his grandfather laughing.
“See that tree?”
His daughter looked suspiciously at him.
“Why?”
“Just get to the tree.”
She groaned but continued walking.
Then came the rock.
Then the bend.
Finally, they reached the top.
His daughter turned toward the valley.
Her eyes widened.
“Wow.”
Caleb smiled.
“Worth another ten minutes?”
She nodded.
And in that moment, Caleb understood what his grandfather had really been teaching him all those years ago.
Strength isn’t always about making enormous heroic efforts.
Sometimes strength is much quieter.
It’s doing a little more when you’re tired.
Trying once more after disappointment.
Continuing for another week when progress feels slow.
Taking the next small step when the entire journey feels overwhelming.
So when you feel like giving up, you don’t always have to promise yourself you’ll make it all the way.
Rest if you need to.
Catch your breath.
Then look for the next tree.
The next rock.
The next bend in the road.
Push yourself just a little further.
Because sometimes the view you’ve been working so hard to reach…
is only one more hill away. 💛