MARCH 2024 - Chinny Chin Chin

77 years later, I can still see him. Feel his gentle hands on my face. His caring.

My parents, sister and I were on a ski trip to Catamount Mountain in upstate New York. We’d taken a ski train from New York City, filled with skiers and skis and poles and boots and bags. When we got off the train to get on a shuttle to take us to the ski area, the cold was biting. The wind made me shiver despite wearing a warm sweater, hat, heavy coat, and mittens. Despite the frigid weather, I was looking forward to skiing.

The ski lodge felt cozy with all the skiers eating and drinking; the fires in the fireplaces adding warmth. I liked watching the dancing flames. My family and I were sitting at a table and I had just finished eating a hamburger with sweet pickles and ketchup, the bun lightly toasted when my parents started teasing me.

“Are you going to sit and eat hamburgers all day?” 

“I thought you came to ski, not eat.”

 I remembered how cold I felt walking to the lodge but I said, “Okay. You want me to ski, I’ll ski.” I was ten years old. Old enough, they told me, to lace up my leather boots without help and dress warmly.

Leaving my family inside the lodge, I walked outside and noticed the thermometer. Nine degrees below zero. I pulled my wool hat over my ears as I walked to the T-bar, the lift that would take me to the top of the mountain. Hardly anyone was skiing. At least I didn’t have to wait in line.

I managed two runs before I was so cold I couldn’t stop shivering. When I walked into the lodge my chin burned, as if it were on fire. Terrified by the pain, I stood among the crowds of people, unable to move. Tears pouring down my face.

A man came up to me. He said, “I’m a doctor. Your chin is bone white. May I look at it?” I nodded, comforted by his caring. He gently held my head in his hands and said, “You have frostbite. Is it very painful?” I nodded.

“I’ll help you. Come with me.” Using a soft cloth, he soaked my chin in warm water and then put some cream on it. He asked who I was with. “My parents and sister.” He offered to come with me and talk with them. I told him I’d be fine, that he didn’t need to come. He’d been so kind. 

I was in too much pain to try to explain to my parents why I let a stranger help me instead of coming right to them. And, I didn’t want him blamed for helping me.


If you received unexpected help, what was that like for you?

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March 2024 Monthly Stories