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---
title: Melody's Malady
---
By Han Ying
This is another tale from the summer of 1973, when I took a course in
desert survival from BYU (See Chocolate Waterfalls). The day when this
incident took place was part of a phase of the course called 'Group
Expedition'. The entire class of college students participated in this
phase together. The day was typical for this time of the year in
Southern Utah. There was not a cloud in the sky and the temperature was
near 100 degrees. Our group had been hiking in these conditions all day
long. We were exhausted and parched. The sun was beginning to set when
our leaders found a place they thought would be a good spot for setting
up camp to spend the night. We were all quite happy to unload our gear
and rest our tired, aching feet. Then, to our great disappointment, the
leaders informed us that we had to continue our march. They explained
that the water at this place was so brackish and salty that it was not
drinkable. The nearest good drinking water was still many miles away.
However, we had no choice but to continue our hike until we reached it.
Otherwise, we risked getting caught in the desert heat with no drinking
water.
Amid many moans and complaints, we hauled our tired bodies off the
ground, loaded up our gear and trudged on. Up to this point, I thought I
had born our hardships well. After all, this desert experience was not
intended to be a nice little walk in the park. I expected to be
challenged by the hardships of living in the desert. But now I was
beginning to lose my will to bear it gracefully. My tired muscles ached
in places I didn't know I even had. My throat was parched and dry. My
feet were painfully sore. My discomfort was so great that my mood began
to get dark and ugly. I began to wonder why I had been so foolish to
take this course and pay good money to feel this kind of agony.
While I was thus wallowing in my misery, something happened that changed
everything. One of our leaders asked me and a friend of mine to help a
girl named Melody. Apparently, Melody had a thyroid condition called
hypoglycemia. She was so weak that she couldn't continue without some
help. My friend and I took her gear and added it to our own backpacks.
We then placed her arms around our necks, with one of us on each side of
her. In this manner, my friend and I carried most of Melody's weight as
we continued on down the trail. The sun fell below the horizon and
darkness slowly engulfed us as we stumbled and struggled on our way.
Initially, my inner rebellion was almost to the point of boiling over.
How could they possibly be so uncaring and insensitive to my plight?
Instead of relieving my personal suffering, our course instructors had
had the nerve to add to my burden of misery by asking me to help someone
else. I had no idea that a small miracle was about to happen.
It only took a few moments for me to perceive that Melody's sufferings
were far greater than mine. The pain and exhaustion were in her voice as
she apologized for being such a bother to us. She tried valiantly to be
cheerful and hummed softly to herself as we trudged on. As I witnessed
her courage, my own heart began to soften. Instead of concentrating on
my own troubles, I began to think of ways to help the time pass more
pleasantly for her. I tried to give her encouragement with little
complements about how well she was holding up. I tried to hum little
harmonies to her faintly uttered tunes. My reluctant acceptance of this
assignment turned out to be a great blessing to me. It made the time go
much more quickly than it had before.
It was well after midnight when we finally arrived at the good watering
hole. I didn't mind that my place for sleeping was on the rocks of a dry
creek bed. My former weariness and discomfort were no longer a part of
my consciousness. The anger and bitterness had been replaced by the warm
glow of satisfaction that comes from serving others. I pondered upon
this small miracle as I drifted into a peaceful and gratitude filled
state of slumber. Melody's malady had healed my troubled soul.
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