The Gorge

This is a story I finished of today, Try and see any parallels in our walks in life. Enjoy.

Very early, every morning, a man walked a treacherous path to the fields where he worked; the path was a gorge between two huge rocks and was only wide enough to fit one person. There was another path above, but only the most experienced climbers could dream of walking it. On the lower path many people stumbled and fell on the sharp rocks and deadly vines. Many inexperienced travellers never made it to the other side and some were lost forever winding passages. Now, there was a point in the gorge that split into four paths, three of the paths were wide, more pleasant and pleasing to look upon. The first had a stream that gently bubbled and swished to itself, the next had grapes growing of beautiful vines, and the third other bouncing moss that soaked any warmth that could be found. However, all three ended in disaster and mostly death, they were cunning traps laid by the leaders of a neighbouring villages to catch field workers make them to work as slaves in the fields of other villages. There was a fourth path, it was fair and bleak to some, to others it was pleasant and exciting but to most it was menacing and grim, often one could see shadows of dagger-like rocks caressed by the seeming smiles of evil creatures, and dark holes and pits swallowing in all the life they found, but to the few who worked the fields, it was the only way. This man knew the right path and never strayed from it, he never fell or injured himself, and sometimes he would even light candles to make the way easier for when other workers passed. The years progressed and all the paths grew more delightful and pleasing, all apart from the fourth, which stayed just as dark and grim. It wasn’t long before the man had a son, he loved his son with a love that surpasses all thinking, his son was so precious to him and he took great pride in all he did. Much time passed by and soon the season came when a man takes his son to work with him in the fields. So early in the morning while it was still dark, the man and his son walked from their village and down towards the gorge, soon the path started to get rougher and more demanding. As they approached the gorge and the father took the upper path above leaving the son alone to take the lower path. Suddenly the son turned round and realised his Father was nowhere to be seen, He called,’ Father? Where are you?’ He heard his father’s voice and looked up, his father was looking down upon him and said,’ Son, I love you, so follow me, listen to my voice, never stop looking up at me, I will give you all the direction that you need.’ The son looked a little confused but simply obeyed. He continued along the path, looking up at his father. Suddenly his father, shouted for him to stop. The son stopped in his tracks and looked around, he found his head inches away from a huge set of spikes protruding from the walls, he started to panic, fear rose in him and just as he was about to move his head away, his father calmly said,’ Look up at me’. The son looked up at his father, fear settled sank away and the son continued to walked on, what the son didn’t know was that if he had turned he would of collided with even sharper spikes, that would of caused much pain to him. The son looked up at his father, and walked on as his father spoke instruction to him, soon the son could hear rustling, much like leaves on a tree, he flashed his eyes down for one split second and saw a huge poisonous vine towering over him, he leapt to the side and found himself quickly buried in a bush of menacing thorns, as he felt the pain of the thorns sink into his skin he found himself looking down, trying to find a way of escape, while he struggled he called out to his father, ’Father! Help me!’ ‘Look up to me son’ and as the son looked up to his father, he felt the thorns release their grasp. He saw the eyes of his Father beckoning him on and he continued along the path, his father gave him directions as to where he should tread his feet and where he should rest his hands. In no time the son had reached the crossroads, the father once again called down to his son,’ Son, listen to me, hear my voice, there may be times when you cannot see me, but remember, I know the path well, so take heed to my words.’ It was just after these words were spoken that the son heard the chirping of birds and the babbling of a brook and forgot his father’s instruction to look to him and peered down to see what he had heard. Before him lay three wonderful paths, one layered with flowers and with a wide brook running down the middle, another had moss curving up the sides of the gorge to make a beautiful blanket on which to rest. Another had all kinds of fruit ripe and ready to fall from towering trees that caressed the sun onto their mighty beams. He didn’t even notice the other path, and he thought to himself, ‘These must be the ways; I wonder which one is more exciting?’ He chose go down the path with flowers and the babbling brook, as he stepped towards it he could hear his father’s voice calling out to him, ‘Son, stop and look at me.’ But the son chose not to notice,’ It’s fine father, I have found a wonderful new way to the fields where you work!’ listening only to the happy babbling brook as it swam gently down the path, for a while he even skipped, happy recalling pleasant memories from childhood. He closed his eyes and thought, ’I have made it! I have discovered a new way!’ As he was pondering to himself he barely took time to look ahead and see the disaster to come, as he began descending into the brook, he felt the cool, refreshment of the brook, it seemed good, so he continued to walk down the path. He failed to notice the widening of the brook, and soon he found himself tumbling into a vicious rapids, he called out,’ Father, help me!’ through the billowing, white waves he heard ‘Look up to me!’ the son shouted, ’Father, where are you?’ The son felt strong hand on his shoulder pulling him from the current. ’I’m here my child, right next to you,’ The Father then carried his son back up the river, battling against sharp rocks and strong currents. The son didn’t take time to notice the cuts in his father’s legs or the grazes on his elbows, he just complained about his own injuries. As time went on, they reached the crossroads, and the father put his son back down on the ground, he said,’ Child, where you go I cannot, but I will guide you, always look up to me and listen to my voice.’ So the son followed his father’s voice and went down the fourth path, but it wasn’t long before he turned his head away from his father, to his terror he saw sharp rocks and thorns with evil shadows lurking nearby, He started to run back up the path to the crossroads, when he heard his father’s voice. ’Son! Stop and listen to me. I will keep you safe.’ The son stopped and saw his Father above; he heard the comfort in his voice and followed it. The path at times was wide and easy, other times it was hard and narrow, but his father never stopped speaking words of comfort and guidance, as they were drawing near to the end of their journey when the son felt prickles against his legs, He shouted up, ’Father! What are you doing? Why have you told me to go this way, I can feel scratches all down my legs, because I followed your voice!’ What he didn’t know was that there was a deep pit beside him filled with terror and man-eating animals. The father said, ‘Child, trust me it is for your best, follow my voice,’ the son kept looking at his father, but soon he felt nettles sting his hands, ’Father!’ He shouted,’ Why are you doing this to me? You are leading me wrong!’ It was about this time that a rock stood between the son and the father, the child couldn’t see the Father, so he called, ’Father! I cannot see you, where are you?’ ‘Son, I know where you are, listen to my voice and trust me’ But it was dark and the son started to panic, he looked down to see for himself where he was, as he stepped backward, he lost his footing and fell, he screamed in a mix of fear and pain as he crumbled down the hole, he hit the bottom hard, and felt his arm cut open, he heard the growls of fierce animals and felt the bitter cold of the wind,  he cried out, ‘Father! Where are you, I have fallen and my arm is hurt. Help me!’ Then he heard his father’s soft, gentle voice, ’My child, I am here beside you.’ The son felt himself being lifted onto his Father’s shoulders, as they travelled up the steep sides he grew angry with his father, ’Why did you make me fall? Look at my arm, it is bleeding! Why did you do this to me?’ The father gently lay his son on the ground and ripped some cloth from his own robe and bandaged his son’s arm. The son failed to notice the tears in his father eyes or the deep cuts in his father’s hands from climbing up the steep, sharp side of the pit. He picked his son up again and started to carry him again, the son began to accuse his father again, ’Look my arm still hurts, my ankle is swollen! See for yourself the pain you cause me! I can’t believe I ever listened to you!’ As they reached the top of the pit, the sun was rising, taking hold of the day and streaming light onto the path. However, even in new morning light, the son still failed to notice the deep wounds dark scratches in his Father’s side, or the deep holes in his father’s hands nor the thorny stems still entwined in his blood matted hair. He didn’t notice the bites to his father’s legs or the gashes running down his arms, then, he turned his head and looked down the path from which he came, he saw the shadows of sharp rocks and evil faces had disappeared, and green grass and flowers had taken their places, he noticed the spikes in the wall and remembered his doubt he turned again and looked at the top of the gorge where his father walked, there he saw the sharp rocks and evil creature. He turned his head again and saw the path leading down into the hole where he had fallen, deep bushes of thorns and menacing spikes of rock were spread along the path. Blood was spattered among the thorns and rocks, and then he looked down at his father, he saw the blood, cuts and pain all over his body, it was then he realised what his father had done for him, he turned back to hole then saw slain wolves and bloody thorns. He felt tears stream down his face as he understood why he had to keep looking at his father, ’Daddy,’ he said ,’ I’m sorry for not listening to you, I’m sorry for disobeying, If only I had listened!’ My child, I have already forgiven you, I forgave you even before you fell, and even before you were carried away by the current. I was there to save you and it doesn’t matter what you do, because to me your life is more precious than mine, and I will always be there to help you. Some things you will never understand, but I want you to understand that I love you more than you could possible imagine.’ The son turned to look again into his father, he saw the love and peace in his eyes and embraced him. He never knew of some of the sacrifices his father made, but he knew without doubt that his father loved him more than anything else, and would be with him all the way to the fields were they worked.