Wednesday, February 19, 2014

The Coming Storm





The father was pained by the villagers’ ignorance, but was left with very few options.  So, one day he neatly packed all the money he had brought from America into a worn-out leather bag, took his youngest son with him, got on a bus and traveled for several hours through the mountains until they finally reached a city where a place called bank was located.

The city was absolutely magical to the boy's eyes - glistening white, with beautiful buildings and breathtaking sparkly azure that splashed along it’s edges.

The people who worked in the bank seemed to understand the value of the money the father brought and appeared to be really happy to exchange it for their paper money. The money the father received in exchange for one leather bagful filled up several burlap bags. The boy couldn't believe his eyes – he has never seen so much money in one place, and it all belonged to his father.  The ride back home felt like but a moment, such was the happiness of the boy. 

Sitting next to his dad on the lumpy bus seat, the boy suddenly realized, his impossible dreams – the two-room house AND the car - were now quite within his reach. And it made the boy overjoyed, more joy than he ever imagined possible, for he finally felt safe, and secure and well-provided for… He had his father back.


The father, however, didn’t seem to share the boy’s happiness. Most of the ride back he spent clutching the bags that were stacked around his feet, looking out of the dirty bus window. When the bus finally stopped at the village inn, he said,


We must hurry.  The storm is approaching. 

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