Another Bed-time Story
Not a sequel....
There was an old man, retired, living alone in his
home. One day, he got up out of his chair and went to the stone patio he had
made in his youth. Thousands of flat stones laid out meticulously, like a giant,
unpictured jigsaw puzzle. He walked to the center of the patio, leant over, and
carefully lifted one stone. He was old, and not the young man who had first laid
these stones, but he persevered, and lifted the rock, and carried it through his
back dorr, through the kitchen, into the living room, out the front door, and
into his front yard. He placed the stone carefully in front of his doorstep. And
that was all he did that day. He went back into his house and sat, reserving the
rest of his strength.
The next day, he placed another stone from the back patio to the front. And the next, and the next. With each successive stone, it took less effort to carry the flat stone, even though each day he walked one step further. His neighbors didn;t knwo what to think, but what they saw amazed them. Each day, teh old man seemed younger, stronger, happier than he had ever been living in his home.
As the days pased, his stepping stones crossed yards, counties, states. Still each day, he took a stone from his patio and walked to the end of his path, placing it carefully at the end, then walked back to his home to rest.
Until the day that he walked into his back yard and found tha the had only one stone left. He was not sad; he had found a new place to go. He l ifted the stone and followed the path to its end. There, he placed the stone and looked up, only to be dumbfounded to find the step to the front porch of a small cottage. But, out of habit, he walked back to his house and rested till the next day.
He began walking in the morning as the sun rose. His path had been al lhe had looked at while he placed it, but now there was nothing to stop him from looking around. He passed by the world. He looked at it and found that, though it was interesting, he did not belong in it. He belonged on this path. And he found himself on the last stone. He looked up to the porch. the door there was open. He walked in and found the house empty. He walked out the back door and, to his amazement, found a sinfle file of flat stones leading into the woods behind the house. He stepped onto the first stone and began to walk.
After a few hours of walking, he saw a young lady walking toward him, careful to step on the stones, and not off the path. She looked down at the rocks, not seeing him. He coughed before she ran into him. She looked up, but did not seem startled.
"I am sorry if I have trespassed on your path, but I have been building my own for some time, and found that it led to your door."
She took him by his hand, looking up at him and smiling at him.
"And I have spent this time building a path for us to walk at our leisure. Together, let us build a path for others to follow."
The next day, he placed another stone from the back patio to the front. And the next, and the next. With each successive stone, it took less effort to carry the flat stone, even though each day he walked one step further. His neighbors didn;t knwo what to think, but what they saw amazed them. Each day, teh old man seemed younger, stronger, happier than he had ever been living in his home.
As the days pased, his stepping stones crossed yards, counties, states. Still each day, he took a stone from his patio and walked to the end of his path, placing it carefully at the end, then walked back to his home to rest.
Until the day that he walked into his back yard and found tha the had only one stone left. He was not sad; he had found a new place to go. He l ifted the stone and followed the path to its end. There, he placed the stone and looked up, only to be dumbfounded to find the step to the front porch of a small cottage. But, out of habit, he walked back to his house and rested till the next day.
He began walking in the morning as the sun rose. His path had been al lhe had looked at while he placed it, but now there was nothing to stop him from looking around. He passed by the world. He looked at it and found that, though it was interesting, he did not belong in it. He belonged on this path. And he found himself on the last stone. He looked up to the porch. the door there was open. He walked in and found the house empty. He walked out the back door and, to his amazement, found a sinfle file of flat stones leading into the woods behind the house. He stepped onto the first stone and began to walk.
After a few hours of walking, he saw a young lady walking toward him, careful to step on the stones, and not off the path. She looked down at the rocks, not seeing him. He coughed before she ran into him. She looked up, but did not seem startled.
"I am sorry if I have trespassed on your path, but I have been building my own for some time, and found that it led to your door."
She took him by his hand, looking up at him and smiling at him.
"And I have spent this time building a path for us to walk at our leisure. Together, let us build a path for others to follow."
Posted: Sat - June 2, 2007 at 11:21 PM
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Published On: Jun 02, 2007 11:21 PM
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Published On: Jun 02, 2007 11:21 PM