Come Home

I knew that I could reach the end of the path. I knew it, because I had been there before. To the End. No, not in my memory.. Yet somewhere, I knew that where I was going.. was home.

I had a bag wrapped around my shoulder, as I was walking down the path. I knew not what it was for. I only knew that I was walking home, somewhere in my heart, I knew I was walking home.

But as I walked, I noticed that in the area surrounding the path, were very attractive, colorful stones. I began to grow curious of them, and what they were. I strayed off the path, only for a moment, to go pick one up and see what it was. When I got close to one that looked particularly lovely, I picked it up.

But in the blink of an eye, the color and the glimmer that had made the rock so enticing were gone. As soon as my hand touched it, all that was once mystery drifted away. In my hand I held a very ordinary, very black, stone. I tried to drop it, hurl it back, but I could not. It stuck to my hand. The only thing I could do was put it in the sack around my shoulder. It dropped very easily into it.

I returned to the path, with the horrid rock in my sack, and continued walking home. I knew now not to leave the path, I knew. I told myself again and again, I knew now. Walk home.

But still the rocks around the path were inescapable. They were everywhere as I walked, always colorful, always enticing. My thoughts started to drift, and I began to think that the one rock was the one rock only. The others will not do what that one did, they will stay colorful, they will stay enticing. One more will not hurt.

I found another rock that again looked the loveliest, and I drifted off the path to collect it. To grasp that which has enticed me for so long. I hurried to it, to pick it up and look at it.

A tear rolled down my cheek, as I picked it up. The very black, very ordinary, very worthless stone. With all my might I tried to throw it away, rid me of the wretched thing. But it would not go, only would drop into the bag. As I returned to the path, two stones now hit each other in the bag as I walked.

No more, I told myself. I knew now, Walk Home. You know where your going is more beautiful than any of the colors these stones appear to be. Walk Home. I said these things again and again. But the enticement came again, the stones looked even more colorful, and they surrounded everywhere but the path.

One more time, I said. Once more will not hurt, these two stones barely weigh me down at all. Even if this one does not keep it's luster, It will not hurt me. It will not hurt anyone else. Once more.

I strayed off the path one more time, to hold that enticing stone. I hurried off the path to grab one, oh the enticement of them. My hand eagerly touched down on one, and picked it up.

I held in my hand, in the very palm, a very ugly, very sinister, very black stone. This one was, just as the others, more heavy then it appeared. Oh how I tried to throw it, to rid me of it, to go home weightless... But I could not. I knew I could not. It would only drop into my bag, which so menacingly sat on my shoulder.

I tried to walk again on the path, but my feet could barely lift. The bag was heavy, so heavy now. I tried to lift the bag off my shoulder, but it stuck to it. Tears flowed down my eyes, how could I have left the path again? I wanted to go home. I needed to go home. I walked forward with as much as there was in me..

But, as I walked a few more steps, I found I could not move. The bag had grown so heavy now, I fell to the ground. I fell flat onto the path. I could not get up, there was no force left within me.

The blackness of the stones around the path started to surround me. Tears were all that could come. How could I have left the path? How could I have picked up those terrible stones? The weight, even on the ground, of the bag was intolerable. I knew now I would never see home. Blackness was all that surrounded me. I closed my eyes.

But as soon as I closed them, I felt a hand touch mine. It was one of the softest hands I had ever felt. The hand lifted me to the ground and stood me back on the path. I looked at the man, who had helped me from the ground. He had a sad, yet loving smile on his face.

I felt the weight of the bag on my shoulder be lifted, I looked around. The man who had helped me, put the bag around his own shoulder. He put the weight of the stones on himself. He then put his arms around me and hugged me.

I looked up into his eyes, and thanked him with a tear of joy from my eye. He smiled at me, and began to walk down the path in front of me. I stood there for a moment, and began to cry. Cry at this man's infinite kindness, how I had gave him such a burden to carry. I did not feel I deserved his love.

I called out to him, crying "'why are you carrying the burden which I so selfishly caused.... I.. " I could not finish the sentence. The tears choked back the words.

He turned around to me and said

"Because I love you, and you are my brother. It would not be home without you. Come Home."

He smiled, and began walking again, with my sack around his shoulder, and his hand beckoning to me, to come home.