One morning, a man from the village, placed his most precious belongings in a course woven sack. His wife had embroidered fine threads of red, blue and green into a design of such beauty, her craft became known throughout the land. They were not rich, nor were they poor, but worked hard and diligently to feed and clothe their family.
On this particular day, he would be traveling to a much larger village by foot, for his steed was recovering in the stables of injury.
As he set out, he knew his journey would be a long and lonely one – and one of desperate hope. Slinging the sack over his shoulder, he walked unaware of misty golden rays shimmering through branches of the magnificent trees surrounding their farmland.
The morning was clear and blue. It wasn’t long before he took notice of a rare sight indeed – a cart made of heartwood. For its warm glow was unlike any other wood, being cut from the heart of the magnificent trees.
The cart pulled up beside him. ‘I bid you good morning kind sir.’ the driver greeted. ‘May I offer my services to carry your burden and yourself?’
Being a truly kind man, the man from the village stopped and politely declined his offer, ‘No thank you kind sir, and I bid you good morning; but I do not accept services I cannot pay for.’ And he continued on his way.
‘But sir,’ the driver persisted, ‘the Master of our village has graciously supplied his cart to all who are in need. It is his finest.’
The man from the village stopped to give the driver his attention once again, ‘Indeed, it does look fine and of superior strength; the steed – a sturdy breed, but I am a man of responsibility. This sack holds what is dear and precious to me and my wife. I must be the one to carry it through to the end.’
The driver looked down … the man looked up … their eyes met.
‘Aaaaaah, I see,’ the driver nodded in approval, ‘the Master foresaw those who harbor love deeply. Not only out of the abundance of his own riches does he offer his finest cart, but also, out of the abundance of his own love does he supply this need. You see, he understands … love.’
The man’s heart was troubled. Love, he pondered. I must needs arrive at the village quickly and get home before sundown. But … ‘I cannot pay to provide this luxury of quick passage, driver. I do have this sack. Although the fabric is course, it is embroidered with fine thread by my wife’s skilled hand. Please accept this on behalf of my debt to your Master.’
The driver shook his head and earnestly stated, ‘It is my purpose to relieve the burdens of travelers. The Master has already provided for this journey. Not only am I to carry you and your beloved treasures to their intended destination, I am to complete the course – may I ask, of what is your need?’
‘My children have suffered with illness of which we cannot cure. I am hoping I will search out the one of great knowledge in these matters so I can purchase the potions to make them well.’
‘Then we need to make haste and find those who can help.’
The man from the village was shocked and incredulous at the driver’s suggestion. ‘Driver! It is one to offer passage, it is yet another to stay by my side and aid in the responsibility that is mine alone to bear! I cannot impose such a time-consuming endeavor.’
‘It would greatly please the Master if you would accept this offer of passage and assistance. I have journeyed to this village many times. If you release to me your treasure and accept my lead, we will accomplish what is needed.’
This kind father, husband, man, shook his head in disbelief. Clutching the burden of hope resting heavy upon his heart, he closed his eyes. Why? Why would the Master care? Why would a man of abundant riches and power, offer his own cart and driver to the likes of him without any payment in return? I cannot …
Weary, the man looked up … the driver looked down … their eyes met – they both knew – they both understood … love.
The man from the village lifted his burden onto the cart and sat next to the Driver cradling the reins.
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