The Weight Inside
by Elsie Gentz (age 14)
Everyone showed up with a backpack.
On the edge of the most infamous national park in the state, the Tri-State Trailblazers hiking group gathered in a friendly swarm. Each member was equipped with their own unique bag — some colorful, some practical, and others fashionable. Nobody expected their load to be a burden — nobody but one new member who was running far behind.
Nora didn’t notice how heavy her backpack had become until the morning she couldn’t lift it. She knew she didn’t need everything in it, but the thought of leaving anything behind pained her. As a single mom, she’d learned that it’s better to be safe than sorry, even if that meant she would struggle a little under its weight. Sure, it would probably be harder to hike with such a heavy load, but she wanted to make sure she had everything just in case she was late picking up Colin from practice. She had just finished a long shift, and she wasn’t in any mood to mess anything up. On top of that, she wanted to be prepared for any emergency she could possibly think of.
She unzipped the front pocket of her backpack, stressing as she tried to pick what to take out. Her father’s medical notes? No, she needed them as a reminder to pray for a breakthrough. If she weren’t constantly begging God, then maybe He wouldn’t answer. She had countless appointments coming up, and she needed good news at all of them.
Should she take out her extra clothing?
No, it was possible she’d need to adjust her layers depending on the weather.
Her first aid pack?
No, perhaps everyone else had decided not to bring theirs. Nora glanced at her watch and gasped. She was already running late, and nothing had come out of her bag yet. She pulled the zipper, grunted as she hoisted it onto her shoulders, and silently blinked back a tear as she headed out her front door.
After a timely drive, Nora timidly joined the rest of the hiking group, who were all chatting lightly, relaxed and unworried. She didn’t know any of them; she had been recommended this group by her own doctor. She needed to “find something for herself,” as he had put it. She shifted her eyes from one person to the next, envious of their joyful demeanor. All their backpacks were of normal size, hardly weighing them down, and most certainly more comfortable. She frowned and looked away. God, she said, how come they aren’t forced to carry so much weight? They all seem to have perfectly functioning lives, while I can hardly keep my family together.
Swallowing hard and lifting her eyes from her dirty shoes, she beheld what seemed to be a very sorrowful man. He was in maybe his late 60s, and on his back sat a very empty bag. He was separated from the rest of them, quiet, his eyes wandering and shoulders slumping. He didn’t seem to want to engage with other members; Nora figured he must also be new to the group.
As the hikers headed up towards the trail, she quietly cursed herself for carrying too much. She longed to be more like the gentleman she saw earlier — a lighter load to carry and an excuse to not be overhelpful.
Little did she know that man was walking through his own hell — and he worked hard to keep his load light …
As soon as the trek began, Nora quickly realized that she needed to offer as much help as possible. Though her backpack straps dug into her skin under the weight, she managed to convince herself that it was for the better. Keeping her ears open for even the slightest indication that help was needed.
“Did you want a bandage for that? I have plenty!”
“Does anyone want a snack? No? Well, I have some if needed.”
She felt a small flame of envy watching the older gentleman’s light bag bounce lightly with his steps, his pace slow and expression parched.
“Would you like some water?” she asked, motioning towards her own.
He shook his head. “No, that’s alright. I can’t take your water.”
“No, no! Please! I feel the need to help out!”
He shook his head. “I’m okay.”
Nora frowned. He obviously looked thirsty. “Well, good talk —“
“Caleb.”
“Alright, Caleb. I’ll see you around.”
The next few miles, Nora continued to exercise her overhelpfulness, offering anything she could and engaging in conversations with the other members. She continuously apologized to the group for slowing them down, only for them to give the same response — she was doing fine, she wasn’t slowing them down. Nora refused to believe it. Her pack was so heavy, and her steps were so forced that she felt she was becoming a burden. Never had she felt that before — she was always the one to carry others’. She didn’t want to appear useless.
Caleb was always quiet, she had noticed. When he did speak, he used short, careful sentences as if he were rationing words. Nora felt as if her words were overkill. Whenever someone asked about her heavy bag or checked up on her, she insisted she was fine. She knew that wasn’t true. Her straps strained on her sore arms, and her legs burned from the extra weight. It was an incredible relief when they reached the end of their hike. She breathed heavily as she climbed into her car, exhausted and unprepared for the next week.
Whether she was ready or not, the next meeting came.
Everyone showed up with a backpack.
Nora’s was a little heavier.
The past week had been rough — after an appointment with her father’s doctor, she had discovered that his condition had worsened. This week, she had brought a few of his medications with her, just in case she had to rush over, of course. The added weight certainly wasn’t convenient, but it gave her extra security.
She managed to struggle through a few miles of the hike when her bag’s strap finally snapped. Everything she was carrying spilled across the dirt — extra clothes, snacks, first-aid supplies, Colin’s extra sports gear, and her father’s medical notes. Heads turned in her direction at the commotion, but Nora was quick to retaliate.
“I’m good, I’m good! Don’t worry about me!” She cursed herself under her breath but continued smiling, reassuring everyone that she was in no need of help. Her voice was light, but her hands shook as she knelt to collect her things. Just one member came to help — Caleb. He knelt down silently, gently collecting her things and handing them into her unsteady arms. He didn’t comment on the excess; no words were muttered as he softly passed over her notebook. Embarrassed but grateful, Nora tagged behind the group for the rest of the hike, the only eyes on her being the weary ones of Caleb.
The next meeting came up faster than expected, and Nora found herself dreading the thought of the trails.
Everyone showed up with a backpack.
Nora stuck to the back of the group. She didn’t say a word to anyone or offer any help. Her shoulders ached and her feet were in immense pain, but she decided this time to suffer silently. Little action took place until they reached a new obstacle — a shallow river with a surprisingly strong current. The group leader got the hikers’ attention and gave warning.
“Alright, folks, you’ll want to be careful crossing this river. It’s pretty slippery around the shallower parts, so try to stay balanced.”
Being the caboose of the assembly, Nora and Caleb stood silently and watched the other members slowly make their way across the river. When everyone else had crossed, Nora hoisted her bag a little higher on her shoulders and started across. Her load was heavy, but she couldn’t let her foot slip. Slowly but surely, she made it safely to the other side and turned to watch Caleb attempt to do the same. He started hesitantly, timidly approaching the water and dipping his foot in. His steps were careful, but he was unsteady.
After just passing the halfway point, Caleb’s foot slid from underneath him, and he tumbled down with a splash. Nora winced. He had landed on his ankle, and it was already starting to swell. She immediately sprang into action, crashing into the shallow water and rushing to his side.
“Caleb, are you alright? Do you need something? I have a first-aid kit if you’re bleeding anywhere.”
Caleb’s face flushed. “No,” he said, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”
Nora frowned. In him she saw the same stubbornness she’d carried, only this time in reverse. “Let me carry something for you.”
Caleb hesitated, then allowed Nora to support him across the rest of the river.
“Will you be alright?” she asked, breathing hard.
“I think so. Thanks.”
Nora caught herself smiling. Not only had they come to a point of mutual trust, but also of understanding. She wasn’t the only one pretending to be strong. Maybe everyone was. Maybe everyone’s backpack held different weights that she’d never understand. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one with a heavy load to carry.
As she walked beside Caleb for the remainder of the hike, her mind spun with plans for next week — she was ready for a change.
Everyone showed up with a backpack.
Nora’s was a little lighter.
Caleb’s was a little fuller.
Nora had found herself walking next to Caleb. They connected more naturally now, making more than just small talk. Nora found herself opening up about her father’s illness.
“I’m afraid of failing him,” she admitted, her steps lighter than before, “I feel like I need to be the one to handle all of this.”
Caleb nodded. “I’m listening.”
“This week has been better, I suppose. I let my sister take him to a few of his appointments so I could go to my son’s game.”
Caleb stayed quiet but continued listening, his face showing words he wanted to say but was too afraid to utter.
At the end of the hike, the group leader made an announcement.
“As a reminder, next week will be our last meeting of the year. It’ll be an overnight hike, so bring everything you’ll need for that. Have a great week, I hope to see everyone here next time!”
Everyone showed up with a backpack.
This time around, Nora noticed the weight of the others’ bags in a way she hadn’t before. She was prepared for bonding that night; she had already prepared in her head what she was going to share. She hoped others would open up, too.
At nightfall, Nora found herself feeling nervous. She could sense that Caleb felt the same.
Nora looked around at the faces lit by the fire. These were people she had built connections with, people she had learned to trust. She was ready.
She admitted that she was terrified that she was the one people had to rely on. She was carrying too much, but she didn’t know how to ask for help.
After she was finished, it was Caleb’s turn to share.
He revealed that his wife had passed away a year earlier and that the grief had left him empty. Nora’s heart sank even deeper when he shared a recent medical diagnosis that he hadn’t told his family about. He was too drained to handle it on his own, but he feared being a burden. He kept his load light so that no one would have to carry it for him.
It was a vulnerable moment among the group that night, and few eyes were dry by the end of Caleb’s confession. The others offered smiles of support as they began to share their own stories.
Everyone unloaded their backpacks.
About the Author
Elsie Gentz is a freshman who has attended her Christian school since preschool. Involved in writing and having an interest in journalism, she enjoys writing various genres and about a variety of subjects. She has been published in a literary journal and various magazines.
Next (Story: I Remember) >
< Previous (Story: After Last Summer)
Photo: Public Domain image from Wikimedia Commons. Modified with AI by Veronica McDonald.
