... and the story about how some of us were raised! Enjoy...!
"A village sat nestled in a valley far from the hustle and bustle of the world that existed beyond the hills. It had all that its citizens required: a mercantile, a school, a library, a church, and a hospital. Life was good in a village but it moved at its own pace. And most of the people who lived there were happy.
Every now and then, however, a young person would look toward the hills, curious about what lay beyond them. No one in the village did or said anything to discourage any young person from leaving the village. After all, many of them had felt the same yearnings when they were young. And most that had gone out into the world beyond the hills had come back to the village.
No young person was ever discouraged from leaving, nor encouraged to stay, but only to follow what was truly in their heart. If a young person was about to leave, there was one requirement, one ritual that he or she had to honor.
There was a path leading up from one end of the village to the top of the highest hill. It was a series of steps, and at the end of it was a paved highway that led to a bus stop, and a bus that traveled to the outside world. In order to leave the village, the Young person had to climb those steps to the highway.
Most young people who wanted to leave the village thought twice, because they had heard stories that the steps were very difficult to climb, and that some of their predecessors had not made it to the top. Nevertheless, curiosity about the world that lay beyond the hills was a powerful motivator, and some young people chose to climb the steps.
On the morning of a climb, the young person's family led him/her through the main street of the village, lined with friends and relatives to give him a rousing send-off. The family then took the young person to the bottom of the path and wished him/her all the best.
"When you reach the top of the hill," the young person was told, "you will find a GIFT waiting for you."
So the young person began the journey to the outside world by climbing. The stairway was nearly a few miles long, made of wood slabs and guarded by a sturdy wooden fence on both sides, so the climber couldn't deviate from the path.
At first the climb was easy because the path was wide, but it gradually became narrower and narrower, and the steps likewise gradually higher a fraction of an inch at a time. Halfway up was a bench, a place to rest. Here the climber stopped, but only briefly until his/her heart stopped pounding.
Further up the hill, the climber stopped again. The heart was definitely pounding harder this time. At that point the climber realized that the path was much narrower and the steps higher.
It was in this moment that the climber hoped that the gift waiting at the top was worth the climb!
The rest of the climb was even more difficult!! The young person had to stop often to rest. Not only did the path become extremely narrow and the steps became higher, but the steps were now also deeper and more dangerous to climb. The climber had to grab the fence railing on either side to keep from slipping.
But, the climber did finish the climb, with the heart pounding like a drum. His legs trembling from exertion and his lungs burning.
The climber gained the final level and the gate to the outside world. The highway was only a few yards away.
The climber then looked for the gift but saw nothing but another wooden bench. There he sat and rested. Hss parents had told him there would be a gift, but he saw nothing. Not a thing around him looked like it might be a surprise.
Finally, the bus that would take him to the world beyond the hills arrived, and he boarded with a last glance. It was in that moment that he SAW the GIFT:
Carved into the arch above the gate were the words:
STRENGTH IS THE CHILD OF EFFORT AND PAIN.
Climbing those stairs was life itself... for the boy, and also the rest of us who decided to climb them... And for the people that stayed in the village... Well, they learned "same same but different" lessons by simply living life in the valley."
Also carved into the arch of the gate of my life were the words:
STRENGTH IS THE CHILD OF EFFORT AND PAIN... the most valuable gift I received from my parents growing up! :))
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