Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home

by Nando Parrado

Against the backdrop of the Andes, it was impossible to ignore the fact that a human life was just a tiny blip in time, and I knew that if the mountains had minds, our lives would pass too quickly for them to notice. It struck me, though, that even the mountains were not eternal. If the earth lasts long enough, all these peaks will someday crumble to dust. So what is the significance of a single human life? Why do we struggle? Why do we endure such suffering and pain? What keeps us battling so desperately to live, when we could simply surrender, sink into the silence and the shadows, and know peace? I had no answer to these questions, but when they troubled me too much, or in those moments when I thought I had finally found the limits of my strength, I would remind myself of my promise to my father. I would decide, as he did on that river in Argentina, to suffer a little longer. I would take one more step, then take another, and tell myself each brought me closer to my father, that each step I took was a step stolen back from death.