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(posted with permission)
One of my favorite Scriptural lessons...
There was once a city that lay at the foot of a great mountain. The rivers that ran from its peak gave the people fertile farmland and fresh water, and so they gave thanks to the Lord for the mountain's blessings. But the mountain was very tall, so tall that none in the village had ever climbed to its top. Sometimes, the villagers would worry the water would someday cease to flow, but flow it did. It was this way for many generations.
On his way to the river one day, a young wheat farmer of the town came upon an old pilgrim, a stranger to the village. He was a small and frail man, who stared forlornly at the roadside. The farmer stopped and asked the old man, "Please, elder, what could vex a soul n our magnificent country?"
The old man looked up at the farmer and sighed, "I have traveled a long way, young man, but I have no money to purchase a room to sleep in or a meal to eat."
The farmer took the old many by the hand and said, "Please, elder, come with me to my house. My wife and I do not have much, but we can feed you and house you for the night so that you may continue your pilgrimage!"
And so they went to his house, and the young farmer and his wife fed the old man. While they dined, the young man asked, "Please, pilgrim, tell us to whence are you traveling?"
The old man pointed to the mountain. "I am going to climb the mountain."
The young farmer was shocked. "But no man can climb the mountain, elder! It would be too far for you!"
The old man shook his head and said to the farmer, "I will climb the mountain, young man, to the very summit. It has been done, and the greatest prize awaits at its peak for those who would brave its height. I say to you, it is not too tall to climb for any man of any age."
The young man pleaded, but the old man would not be dissuaded. "Then allow me to go with you, elder, for surely it would be easier for the two of us."
The pilgrim nodded his assent, "If you are sure, young man, then you may accompany me. You do understand the danger?"
The young farmer nodded and said, "I know it, but to allow you to go alone would weigh my heart heavy like lead."
The next day they set out, and the old man was slow to start. He pointed towards a tree and said to the farmer, "Young man, if I may have that great piece of hawthorn for a walking stick, I would be obliged." The young man wasted no time. He climbed the tree and brought down a great limb of it for the old man. Now, with a walking stick, the old man moved faster and they made good time to the paths at the foot of the mountain.
As they began to walk the paths, the old man pointed out a nearby mud slick. "Please, if you could, go into that and fetch us three handfuls of roots from which those muck grasses grow. They shall be useful to us." The farmer, though it made his feet cold and tunic wet, hurried into the mud and gathered for the old man the roots he asked for. They continued on their way, and the old man tucked the roots into his satchel.
The weather grew colder, and the paths grew steep and treacherous. The old man pointed to vines strung across the cliff face, and said to the young man, "Please, bring us those vines, for we shall need them for our journey." The farmer hurried to comply, without question, and braved his life to climb out onto the tall rocks. With great difficulty, he returned with the vines and gave them to the old man. The old man began to weave them into a great rope.
The ice began to grow thick about them, and they climbed for days towards the Heavens. The sky stretched out above them, and the village began to grow small below. Suddenly, the ice gave way, and the young farmer fell into a ravine. The old man hurried and lowered the rope to help the young man climb back up. His leg had been rent, but they continued on, and the old man helped him. "Why did you not fall into the ravine, elder?" the farmer asked the old man.
"I am light, and my footsteps do not trample so deeply. I have walked these roads before, young man. Learn to walk as I do and you shall not fall so often."
Presently, they needed to stop, for the young man was feeling weak. The old man looked at his wound and saw that the rot was beginning to set in. So he chewed the roots and pressed them to the wound, where it became healed. The young man was astonished. "How did you know the power of these roots, elder?"
"I am wise, young man, and I planted these in the mud long ago. Learn to think as I think, and you too shall know great medicine."
They came to the base of the great summit, and the young man had grown weak. The wind battered him and the cold chilled him. He shivered and wept, but the old man smiled and called to the farmer. "Hold this hawthorn, young man, and the wind shall not halt our passage!" So the young man took hold of the stick, and they climbed through howling winds to the peak of the mountain.
"How are we not blown from the mountain, elder?" asked the farmer.
"Because this hawthorn is stronger than both us and the wind, young man. Lean on it and it shall not break. Learn the strength that these gifts have within them, and you shall attain any height."
And so they came to the top of the mountain, and the young man gasped, for the world was small below them like a marble and all around them was the vast expanse of the heavens, surrounding them with their twinkling starlight.
"Here is your gift, your great prize," said the old man, "I gave this to you long ago and it has always been yours. What seems so high is not so high, for I have traveled this way before and stood upon this peak. I made this for you, planted these seeds and watered them with my blood so that they would grow strong for you. That one day, you could all climb this mountain and fear nothing for the rest of your days. That we will go behind these stars together."
(Source with comments: https://forums.eveonline.com/default.aspx?g=posts&m=3969399#post3969399)
One of my favorite Scriptural lessons...
There was once a city that lay at the foot of a great mountain. The rivers that ran from its peak gave the people fertile farmland and fresh water, and so they gave thanks to the Lord for the mountain's blessings. But the mountain was very tall, so tall that none in the village had ever climbed to its top. Sometimes, the villagers would worry the water would someday cease to flow, but flow it did. It was this way for many generations.
On his way to the river one day, a young wheat farmer of the town came upon an old pilgrim, a stranger to the village. He was a small and frail man, who stared forlornly at the roadside. The farmer stopped and asked the old man, "Please, elder, what could vex a soul n our magnificent country?"
The old man looked up at the farmer and sighed, "I have traveled a long way, young man, but I have no money to purchase a room to sleep in or a meal to eat."
The farmer took the old many by the hand and said, "Please, elder, come with me to my house. My wife and I do not have much, but we can feed you and house you for the night so that you may continue your pilgrimage!"
And so they went to his house, and the young farmer and his wife fed the old man. While they dined, the young man asked, "Please, pilgrim, tell us to whence are you traveling?"
The old man pointed to the mountain. "I am going to climb the mountain."
The young farmer was shocked. "But no man can climb the mountain, elder! It would be too far for you!"
The old man shook his head and said to the farmer, "I will climb the mountain, young man, to the very summit. It has been done, and the greatest prize awaits at its peak for those who would brave its height. I say to you, it is not too tall to climb for any man of any age."
The young man pleaded, but the old man would not be dissuaded. "Then allow me to go with you, elder, for surely it would be easier for the two of us."
The pilgrim nodded his assent, "If you are sure, young man, then you may accompany me. You do understand the danger?"
The young farmer nodded and said, "I know it, but to allow you to go alone would weigh my heart heavy like lead."
The next day they set out, and the old man was slow to start. He pointed towards a tree and said to the farmer, "Young man, if I may have that great piece of hawthorn for a walking stick, I would be obliged." The young man wasted no time. He climbed the tree and brought down a great limb of it for the old man. Now, with a walking stick, the old man moved faster and they made good time to the paths at the foot of the mountain.
As they began to walk the paths, the old man pointed out a nearby mud slick. "Please, if you could, go into that and fetch us three handfuls of roots from which those muck grasses grow. They shall be useful to us." The farmer, though it made his feet cold and tunic wet, hurried into the mud and gathered for the old man the roots he asked for. They continued on their way, and the old man tucked the roots into his satchel.
The weather grew colder, and the paths grew steep and treacherous. The old man pointed to vines strung across the cliff face, and said to the young man, "Please, bring us those vines, for we shall need them for our journey." The farmer hurried to comply, without question, and braved his life to climb out onto the tall rocks. With great difficulty, he returned with the vines and gave them to the old man. The old man began to weave them into a great rope.
The ice began to grow thick about them, and they climbed for days towards the Heavens. The sky stretched out above them, and the village began to grow small below. Suddenly, the ice gave way, and the young farmer fell into a ravine. The old man hurried and lowered the rope to help the young man climb back up. His leg had been rent, but they continued on, and the old man helped him. "Why did you not fall into the ravine, elder?" the farmer asked the old man.
"I am light, and my footsteps do not trample so deeply. I have walked these roads before, young man. Learn to walk as I do and you shall not fall so often."
Presently, they needed to stop, for the young man was feeling weak. The old man looked at his wound and saw that the rot was beginning to set in. So he chewed the roots and pressed them to the wound, where it became healed. The young man was astonished. "How did you know the power of these roots, elder?"
"I am wise, young man, and I planted these in the mud long ago. Learn to think as I think, and you too shall know great medicine."
They came to the base of the great summit, and the young man had grown weak. The wind battered him and the cold chilled him. He shivered and wept, but the old man smiled and called to the farmer. "Hold this hawthorn, young man, and the wind shall not halt our passage!" So the young man took hold of the stick, and they climbed through howling winds to the peak of the mountain.
"How are we not blown from the mountain, elder?" asked the farmer.
"Because this hawthorn is stronger than both us and the wind, young man. Lean on it and it shall not break. Learn the strength that these gifts have within them, and you shall attain any height."
And so they came to the top of the mountain, and the young man gasped, for the world was small below them like a marble and all around them was the vast expanse of the heavens, surrounding them with their twinkling starlight.
"Here is your gift, your great prize," said the old man, "I gave this to you long ago and it has always been yours. What seems so high is not so high, for I have traveled this way before and stood upon this peak. I made this for you, planted these seeds and watered them with my blood so that they would grow strong for you. That one day, you could all climb this mountain and fear nothing for the rest of your days. That we will go behind these stars together."
(Source with comments: https://forums.eveonline.com/default.aspx?g=posts&m=3969399#post3969399)
