story

Taking Action

 

A little story I think illustrates an important concept:

Many years ago in a distant land there lived a benevolent and wealthy King. He loved his subjects very much and was a fair ruler of his kingdom. Though he had spacious halls lined with gold and silver, his wealth meant little to him, and he gave much of what he had to neighboring empires and the poor. The King remained in peace and enjoyed his rule very much, though soon he would find out that all this was about to change.

You see, no story can be perfect, and as remarkable as this king appeared, he had one weakness. At the very onset of his dominion, he was given a gift to which he owed his power and ability to rule. When he took the throne he was presented with two golden shoes that seemed to capture the very dewdrops of sunlight and radiate them for all to see. Upon slipping the shoes on, the king felt a confidence and leadership that was left unrivaled, and even the mightiest of warriors was humbled in his presence.

So, one morning, much to the king’s dismay, he awoke to find that his precious shoes had been placed too close to the fireplace the night before. The brilliance that they once held, had now faded into singed plainness, and the shoes were no more than any commonly seen in the marketplace outside.

“It cannot be!” cried the king, and he wept in sadness. For the coming days he was quite distraught, and could not speak to anyone, even his closest friends and family. The kingdom quickly began to slip into shadow. Now the king’s advisers and subjects could not let this happen, for all they had seen accomplished was crumbling before their eyes.

It just so happened that two cobblers of reputable status lived within the kingdom. Realizing this, the king’s advisers pleaded with the two men to repair his golden shoes. When both agreed, they decided to give one shoe to each cobbler, hoping this may hasten the repair.

“For the gracious king, I will mend this shoe within two days, and believe me, it will shine even brighter than before,” exclaimed the first, and confidently strutted away with one shoe.

“I will do what I can, and what you request will also be done within two days” said the other, and carried the second shoe away carefully, as if taking a young child in his arms.

The cobblers returned to their homes, thinking hard on how to solve the problem. Soon the sun had chased the moon twice across the sky, and the king’s advisers hurriedly dashed to the cobbler’s shops to obtain the shoes.

Opening the door to the first shop, they found the cobbler fast asleep in his bed. Immediately, they aroused him and asked where the golden shoe was.

“I was just about to repair the shoe, and have drafted a plan that will have it done in five days,” yawned the first cobbler.

“You fool!” they yelled. “How could you say this and not have it done?”

They took the shoe and, shaking the dust from their feet, left the cobbler to return to his sleep.

Hope seemed to fade, and the king was weary, having not eaten nor slept for three days. The advisers rushed to the second cobbler’s house, and were greeted with a spectacular sight. The cobbler, tired from working day and night had not one, but two golden shoes in his hands.

“I did not know what to do right away, but began the repair nonetheless, and realized how to mend the shoes as I worked,” said the second cobbler.

Elated, the advisers returned the shoes to the king, who, upon putting them on, began to jump for joy.

“Where are the two cobblers who did this painstaking task for me?” questioned the king. “I must honor them with a position among my finest noblemen.”

“There is not two, but one man to thank,” said the advisers, and they went away to fetch the second cobbler.

This story is about action. If we say we will do something, we should do it! Complacency is the enemy of success.

Just for Fun

Here is a little snippet of a short story I started a little over a year ago.

Shrouded mountain blog postShrouded Mountain

Chapter 1: Vengeance

White. Not white as you would find on this page or the white of a cloud alone in a sea of blue, but an altogether different white. A blinding white that pierces the eye and sends shivers down the spine. This white cut like a ray of lightning through the small window of 33 year old Thomas Montrell. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he could barely make out a landscape of jagged mountains far below. Unlike rolling hills that rose and fell like the waves of a gentle ocean, this land seemed fierce and unwelcoming. The spectacle brought with it a sensation of fear and wonder that forced Thomas to sit back and close his eyes. Planes always seemed to play with his sanity. He thought of his quaint home nestled in a green meadow broken only up by the occasional maple tree. A portion of his conscience exposed the slightest feeling of regret. One split second decision and what was now near memory could become a reality again. He could go home if he desired. His eyebrows narrowed. No. he couldn’t give up after all this planning and preparation. This was it. There was no turning back now. The pain of the near past was too much. He needed vengeance. His thoughts were shattered as a hand with a glass bottle was thrust in front of his face.

“Another swig of scotch to calm the nerves?”

His excitement urged him to reach out and grab the bottle. He shouldn’t. This was a professional excursion of which he was the leader. He lifted his hand. “No, No thank you. We’re nearly there.” Thomas was right. The six seater plane shuddered as it cut through the freezing Himalayan air.

“Al right, fun’s over,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Let’s buckle our seatbelts and pray for a smooth landing. This runway hasn’t been used in years… Hope it’s still there.” Thomas made a lunge for the scotch.

Sure enough, ten minutes later found the bruised but still functioning plane parked at the end of a rutted runway. The cracks had increased over the past couple of years, most likely due to weathering from the snow. Thomas stiffly stepped out of the exit and stared around him. The peaks around him were high and numerous, resembling rugged claws of that now had him and his team tightly within its grip. He felt the familiar crunch of snow beneath his feet and looked down to see the edge of the runway.