A woman with cerebral palsy (脑瘫) finished the most difficult climb of her life in the Rocky Mountains with the help of a nonprofit organization called No Barriers.

Melissa Simpson, 31, has faced physical challenges in her entire life as she was born with cerebral palsy, weighing less than 2 pounds. She spent her first two months of life on a breathing machine and has always used a wheelchair. Her disability made her an easy target.   “People would laugh and make fun of me,” she explained.

From her window, she could see some of the tallest peaks (山峰) in Colorado. Climbing them was her dream, but it was always just out of reach —until recently, thanks to the help from No Barriers.

The organization, which empowers people with physical and mental difficulties to achieve their goals, recently organized a hike in the Rocky Mountains for about 400 people of all abilities. Simpson used a specially designed chair with hand levers (手杆) to power the wheels forward alongside a volunteer team pulling her with ropes. “I don’t let my disabilities stop me. Sometimes I might be like, ‘Oh man, I can’t get through this.’ But I’ve got to change that attitude,” Simpson said.

Simpson’s journey to reaching the peaks outside her window began when she disobeyed a teacher who once told her she “wouldn’t get anywhere in this world” by graduating college with an associate’s degree in 2017. Reaching the peak with No Barriers was an emotional moment for Simpson, who broke down in tears as volunteers carried her to a perch on a rock.

“I don’t think of my disability, and I don’t particularly mind whether to be defined as a disabled person. I can do things, but I do them differently,” Simpson said.

I live in the land of Disney, Hollywood and year-round sun. You may think people in such a glamorous, fun-filled place are happier than others. If so, you have some mistaken ideas about the nature of happiness.

Many intelligent people still equate happiness with fun. The truth is that fun and happiness have little or nothing in common. Fun is what we experience during an act. Happiness is what we experience after an act. It is a deeper, more abiding emotion.

Going to an amusement park or ball game, watching a movie or television, are fun activities that help us relax, temporarily forget our problems and maybe even laugh. But they do not bring happiness, because their positive effects end when the fun ends.

I have often thought that if Hollywood stars have a role to play, it is to teach us that happiness has nothing to do with fun. These rich, beautiful individuals have constant access to glamorous parties, fancy cars, expensive homes, everything that spells “happiness”. But in memoir after memoir, celebrities reveal the unhappiness hidden beneath all their fun: depression, alcoholism, drug addiction, broken marriages, troubled children and profound loneliness.

Ask a bachelor why he resists marriage even though he finds dating to be less and less satisfying. If he’s honest, he will tell you that he is afraid of making a commitment. For commitment is in fact quite painful. The single life is filled with fun, adventure and excitement. Marriage has such moments, but they are not its most distinguishing features.

Similarly, couples that choose not to have children are deciding in favor of painless fun over painful happiness. They can dine out whenever they want and sleep as late as they want. Couples with infant children are lucky to get a whole night’s sleep or a three-day vacation. I don’t know any parent who would choose the word fun to describe raising children.

Understanding and accepting that true happiness has nothing to do with fun is one of the most liberating realizations we can ever come to. It liberates time: now we can devote more hours to activities that can genuinely increase our happiness. It liberates money: buying that new car or those fancy clothes that will do nothing to increase our happiness now seems pointless. And it liberates us from envy: we now understand that all those rich and glamorous people we were so sure are happy because they are always having so much fun actually may not be happy at all.

As a youngster, there was nothing I liked better than Sunday afternoons at my grandfather’s farm in western Pennsylvania. Surrounded by miles of winding stone walls, the house and field provided endless hours of fun for a city kid like me. I was used to tidy living rooms that seemed to whisper, “Not to be touched!”

I can still remember one afternoon when I was eight years old. Since my first visit to the farm, I had wanted more than anything to be allowed to climb the stone walls surrounding the houses. My parents would never approve. The walls were old; some stones were missing, others loose and falling. Still, my idea to climb across those walls grew so strong that finally, one spring afternoon, I had all my courage to enter the living room, where the adults had gathered after Sunday dinner. “I, uh—I want to climb the stone walls,” I said. Everyone looked up. “Can I climb the stone walls?” Immediately voices of disagreement went up from the women in the room. “Heavens, no!” You’ll hurt yourself!” I wasn’t too disappointed; the response was just as I’d expected. But before I could leave the room, I was stopped by my grandfather’s loud voice. “Now hold on just a minute,” I heard him say. “Let the boy climb the stone walls. He has to learn to do things for himself.”

“Go,” he said to me, “and come and see me when you get back.” For the next two and a half hours I climbed those old walls-and had the time of my life. Later I met with my grandfather to tell him about my adventures. I’ll never forget what he said. “Fred,” he said, smiling, “You made this day a special day just by being yourself. Always remember, there’s only one person in this whole world like you, and I like you exactly as you are.”

Many years have passed since then, and today I host the television program Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, seen by millions of children throughout America. There have been changes over the years, but one thing remains the same: my message to children at the end of almost every visit. “There’s only one person in this whole world like you,” the kids can count on hearing me say, “and people can like you exactly as you are.”