My Lebanon trip was about to draw a close. This day my tour guide and I drove northward to Wadi Qadisha, the deepest and the most breathtaking river valley, also known as Holly Valley.  

We first arrived in the town of Besharri in the Holy Valley. On the journey we were welcomed by a land of rolling mountain ranges, lush ancient trees, picturesque landscapes, and occasional views of farmlands, fruit trees, churches and houses. The most outstanding literati of Lebanon, a master of oriental literature who enjoys equal popularity with Tagore in India, Jibran spent his childhood in such an idyllic town full of natural spirits. 

Although Jibran left Lebanon for the United States at the age of 12, spent most of his time between Europe and America, and died in America in the end, Lebanon had always been the world’s most enchanting place in his heart. After he passed away, his remains were sent back to Lebanon and buried in the monastery of his homeland Besharri where later has become his memorial hall containing his objects and furniture from his American residence as well as 440 pieces of valuable paintings and works in different languages, including the prose poem, The Prophet, that I am quite familiar with. Photographing is prohibited inside the hall. I met several travelers from Europe who were very attentive to the tour guide’s introduction.  

In front of the memorial hall are the cedar mountain ranges, a deep and serene canyon with a wild profusion of vegetation under the snow-capped mountain. Maybe because he was born in such a fairyland-like valley, his creations, paying respects to imposing mountains, are brimmed with love and beauty. Not only does he love his country, but he also loves all mankind, as he once said, ‘The whole earth is my motherland, all human beings are my folks.’ After visiting his work, I had the greatest respect for the poet as well as painter who ‘eulogizes love and beauty and embraces all mankind.’ It is a tremendous loss that he died young aged only 48 years, passed down because of illness, otherwise his contribution to literature and art should have been greater.  

Rock walls of the Wadi Qadisha are cut with naturally-formed caves, along with some artificial stone houses, which had become the significant gathering place for monks since the creation of Christianity. They flocked into the place either to escape the war or to pursue self-improvement. In the 8^th and the 9^th century, the Holly Valley became a refuge for many Christians due to the expansion and persecution from Islam.  

Along the winding mountain road, I could fully appreciate the natural sceneries of imposing mountains and serene valleys. Later we stopped in front of Mar Antonios Qozhaya, the largest and the only monastery welcoming visitors all year round in the Holly Valley.  

Beside the monastery are mountain farmlands cultivated by monks themselves, adding a tinge of earthly air to the valley. In addition to farming, the monks go to the cave monastery every day for worship. Though not a Christian, I felt like returning to an idyllic life of gentle pace and presumably monks here and those devout believers who trudge through a long way all bear a tranquil mind in pursuit of self-actualization.  

Besides the Mar Antonios Qozhaya only accessed by road, there are many stone-made chapels, monasteries and temples hidden amidst the cliffs of the Holly Valley and the dense pine forests. Believers, who belong to different denominations and speak different languages like Greek, Arabic and even Ethiopian, harmoniously blend into this otherworldly hideaway. According to the tour guide, in the past when no mountain roads were paved, practitioners had to overcome straitened circumstances by trekking over hill and dale or transporting daily necessities with mules. Even the traffic is much easier nowadays, they still have to travel on foot to those unable to reach by road. No pain, no gain. 

I was afraid of bothering their meditation, so then hurried to leave this secluded hideaway after a short while. 

Under the Wadi Qadisha flows the Holly River flanked by the continuous lofty mountains. It was late autumn and the summit had been crowned by a thin carpet of white snow, which featured its sacredness. We stopped at a cedar reserve under the administration of Ehden, a mountain-encircled village on the southwest slope of mountainous area in Lebanon.  

Cedar is the national tree and symbol of Lebanon, which is printed in the center of Lebanese's flag. Since ancient times, it has enjoyed celebrated reputation in the Mediterranean region and the floral king mentioned many times in the Bible refers to cedars. The Phoenicians, the Babylonians, the Egyptians, the Assyrians, and the Hebrews all regarded cedar as a kind of sacred wood. Many temples and palaces use it as a building material, including the Jewish Temple of Solomon. In the Pyramid of Khufu of Egypt, the sun ships in Pharaoh oblation are also made of cedar, and raw materials are transported from Biblus Port where I visited earlier.  

I got out of the car and took a stroll. The climate was quite pleasant, and the picturesque sceneries around appeared like a fairytale forest. Standing under the vigorous straight cedar, I took a deep breath, so pure and fresh, really a supreme enjoyment for a city dweller. 

Unfortunately, cedars that used to cover the entire Lebanon now have survived in only a few reserves due to long periods of deforestation. Despite of noises from this earthliness, these cedar trees more than thousands of years old that represent a spiritual symbol of Lebanon are towering consistently, proudly overlooking the mountain and people at their feet.

Tang Yu Lap Hantec Honorary Chairman