The Parable of the Water

by N.J. Kellogg 

            Three men were shipwrecked close to an island and crawled ashore badly in need of fresh water.  After resting a bit one man noticed half a coconut shell lying near him partially filled with clear liquid.  He drank and found to his delight that it was rainwater.

            Quickly he ran up and down the beach gathering more coconut shells and shouting the good news to the others.

            “We can gather hundreds of these and put them out to catch the rain.  Come and help!”

            The others drank their fill and stood watching their comrade run madly about gathering little shells.  Eying them gloomily they said, “That’s not enough.  There must be more somewhere.  Let’s go on.”

            But the first man clutched his coconut shells to himself and, shaking his head vehemently, refused to venture further.  “I’m not taking any chances.  This is a sure thing and I’m staying with it.”  And he went on arranging the shells in little straight rows.

             The other two went on in search of a more abundant, reliable source.  Soon they come upon a small pond, clear and placid in the center of a lovely glade.  At the edge was a deer drinking his fill.

            The second man was overjoyed.  “Look at this beautiful pond!  This can sustain us easily if we’re careful.”

            He ran toward the deer waving his arms and shouting.  As the frightened animal sped away he clapped his hands with satisfaction and stood surveying the scene.

            “If we fence this area off to keep the animals away there should easily be enough for us.  We could even cultivate some crops.  We’ll have to ration it carefully, but it should supply all of our needs.”

            Together they cleared away the brush and began constructing a cabin a short way back.  After a few days of this the third man paused, looking thoughtfully at the jungle and the mountain beyond.  Then he looked at the cabin and the pond.  Finally he said, “It’s not enough.  I need more than this.”

                        And he strode off toward the mountain.

 –

                        He walked a long time; the sun sank lower in the sky and the way became harder.  There was no path.  Thorns clawed at his clothes and his face was lacerated by low-hanging branches.  As he stumbled on, his thirst grew greater and greater.  Day passed into night and night followed day until he was reduced to licking the dew off the leaves to sustain his body.

            Finally he could go no further and sank to the ground, his strength exhausted.  As he bent to receive death, he heard a sound – faint, but mistakable.

                        The sound of splashing water!

                        Pulling himself to his knees he crawled along guided by the beckoning sound.  At length he came upon a lovely waterfall pouring itself joyously down the mountainside into a clear, sparkling pool nestled among the rocks.  Thankfully he thrust his face into the water, gulping and dunking.  When he could drink no more he took off his clothes and ecstatically immersed his body in the cool liquid.

                        He remained there for some time, enjoying the pool and the waterfall, for as the water filled his body, its beauty filled his sight and its music filled his ears, and the gentle animals who came to share it gave him company.

                        One day as he lay on his back propping his head in his hands, his eyes traveled once again up the tumbling stream of water and the thought crossed his mind, “I wonder where it comes from?”

                        From that time on whenever he glanced up the same thought rose with greater and greater insistence… “I wonder where it comes from?”

                        Occasionally he inspected the side of the mountain for a way up but it was smooth and slippery.  Then one day he discovered a small crevice, just large enough for a fingertip hold.  Gingerly placing his toe in the crevice he thrust himself up, reaching for the little rock.  Over and over he did this until finally he achieved a hold, and hung there by toe and fingertips.  As his other foot scrabbled for a hold, he suddenly found a small cleft he had not previously noticed and he moved up a step.

                        Each time, as he strove, another way presented itself – always just ahead until, half way up the mountain, he realized he was at the point of no return.  To turn back would be to fall and die.  As he hung there precariously on the face of the mountain he knew his only chance was to trust and go up.

                        And so he went – inch by inch – now in darkness and the cold of night, now in the brightness of the day with the fire of the sun searing his back.  He just set his mind and went on with no thought of his destination and no ears for his complaining body.  Up a step, find a hold, up another – on he went – the roar of the waterfall beside him his only accompaniment.  At length he reached what looked to be a ledge.  As he crawled up on it, he saw to his amazement a beautiful valley with a wide, clear river winding its way through trees heavy laden with fruit.  Softly the gentlest of breezes rose to caress his cheek.

                        He stood up, trembling, his heart almost bursting at the vision.

           –

                        Time passed quickly for him as he reveled in his paradise; but at length he began to think about his friends and he felt a strong desire to share, to lead them to this place.  One day he looked over the ledge and, seeing the steps clearly now, climbed down and went off in search of the two who had stayed behind.

                        Soon he arrived at the pond and there was the second man comfortably ensconced in a little house looking over the fenced-in pond.  His friend was delighted to see him and invited him to sit on his porch.

                        “This is a snug place you have,” said the visitor, “but I’d like to show you a place I have found where water is so plentiful there is enough for all.  No need for a fence and it always runs clear and fresh.”

                        “Yeah?” said the man, “Where is this place?”

                        “Through the brush and up the mountain.  It’s quite a way but well worth it.”

                        “Up THAT mountain?  You’ve gotta be kidding!  Why should I leave a comfortable place here to climb a mountain? No thanks!”

                        “Okay – sure,”  said his friend and he went on his way.

                        After some time he came to the place of the friend who had stayed by the seashore.  Sure enough, there he was running around tending his coconut shells.  By now there were hundreds of them stretching along the beach.  He greeted his friend cautiously.

                        “If you’re going to stay you’ll have to collect your own coconut shells.”

                        The third man looked at the cluttered beach shaking his head in amazement.

                        “What do you do with all of these?”

“I have to watch them.”  said the first man as he carefully laid a leaf over one. “Sometimes they get bugs in them or they molt before I can use them.  But I never know when it will rain again so I have to be careful.”

                        He scurried over to shoo an insect away.  The third man watched as he scampered frantically up and down the rows checking here, waving away a fly there.

                        “I’ve found a place where the water runs free all the time.”

                        “Really?”  He tore over to swat at a dragonfly hovering near an uncovered shell.  “Where?”

                        “It’s through the jungle and up a mountain, but it’s sure better than this!”

                        “Yeah, well,” swat! “…anything’s better than this.”  Swat!

                        “I’ll show you the way if you like.”

                        The first man wiped the sweat from his forehead.  “Think I’ll just do that.  I’m really tired of this scene.”

                        He started gathering some shells and stringing a line through them.  “I’d better take some of these along just in case.”

                        “That’s up to you,” said the other, “but I’m not slowing down for you.”

                        So they started off, the third man swinging along, his friend hobbling and clanking as the coconut shells banged against his legs with every step.

                        As the day wore on and shadows thrust out their tendrils, the coconut shells weighed heavier until, puffing mightily, he sat down on a stump along the path.

                        “How about you carrying some of these?  It sure would make it easier.  How about it?”

                        His friend leaned against a tree, his eyes roving across the myriad forms of the jungle that closed it from the sun.

                        “Nope.  You want ‘em, you carry ‘em.  I’m not hauling anyone’s’ coconuts.”

                        With that he started off briskly down the path.

                        The first man watched him go, looked longingly at his shells and sighed.  There was no way he could keep that pace dragging those shells.  With a tremor of fear he unhooked the belt and, letting the shells fall with a crash, sped off to catch up with his friend.

 –

                        The waterfall splashed and danced merrily, the sunlight glinting in sparkles as it bounced and rolled exuberantly down the mountainside.  The two men stood beside it – one smiling, the other in stunned amazement.

                        “This is fantastic!  FANTASTIC!”

                        Almost delirious with joy he lay down beside the pool splashing his face with the clear water.  At length, satiated, he rolled blissfully on his back, feeling the warm sun on his body.

                        For seven days they stayed by the waterfall and then the third man said, “This is lovely but it’s not the place I was telling you about.  It’s time to move on.”

                        “On?” said the first man.  “Where?”

                        “Up there,” replied the other, pointing to the mountain.  “There is much more than this.”

                        The first man eyed the face of the mountain dubiously, then rolled over cushioning his head on his arm.

                        “Later,” he said.  “Right now I’m going to take a nap.  I’ll think about it when I wake up.”  And he went off to sleep.

                        His friend studied him for a moment and then said, “Okay – sure,” and went back up the mountain.

Epilogue 

                        The man moved easily across the field, his arms laden with fresh fruit.  When he reached the river he set the fruit down gently and proceeded to wash each piece with care.  As he finished the last one, his eyes traveled along the stream to the point where it disappeared on the horizon, lost amidst a sparking haze.

                        He knelt there, staring for several moments as the thought crossed his mind…

                        “I wonder where it comes from…”