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...who is procrastinating when she should be working on her book that is due May 1st.
Part of me feels like if I was going to waste time, I should be wasting it phone banking instead of writing a fairy tale. But the whole thing the past couple of days about "caucuses don't count" and "black people don't count" and "young people don't count" and "activists/white people/intelligent people/rich people/red state people/small state people/and any other people who didn't vote for Hillary don't count" just really pissed me off. This little story came to mind, so I hope you will forgive me for "wasting time" on such a whimsical, sentimental tale, and I hope you will enjoy it.
The Treasure That Counts
by Meredith Efken
Once upon a time there was a beautiful country of towering mountains and windswept prairies, romantic beaches and soul-stirring deserts, rich farmland and lush forests. The people of this country came in all shapes and varieties, some rich, some poor. Some smart, some foolish. Some old and some young. Even though they were all equally precious, united in their love of their beautiful country, they had many ideas about how things should be done. Their many ideas caused many arguments—which is not all bad.
At the time of our story, the country was ruled by a terrible man—as dishonest as he was foolish. This ruler started wars with other nations and was known as a rude, disagreeable bully who never could own a mistake. The people of this fine country were suffering under his rule. Poverty was increasing from mountains to prairies, from beaches to deserts, from farms to forests.
Lady Liberty, the mother of all the country’s rulers that had ever been, regretted the rule of her foolish son. “Alas,” she said, “would that I had never borne such a child! His reign must be brought to an end before the country is destroyed.” She gazed fondly at her other children. Which one of them would be more deserving of the rule of this great nation?
One son had fought bravely in a long-ago war. But his face looked in two directions at once. He had been courageous those many years ago, but now he seemed hungry to continue an unjust war. He begged his mother to give him a chance, and so she did. But Lady Liberty’s heart was troubled.
Her people needed another choice. She gazed across her children again, and her eyes lighted on her daughter. She smiled. This daughter’s mind was as brilliant as sunshine on water. But no female had ever ruled the nation before. Her daughter assured her, “I am ready!” Lady Liberty saw that her daughter had many ideas and plans and they were wise and good. Truly, this daughter would make a fine ruler. But would she rule out of her love for her people or from her ambition and love of power? There was no clear answer. Lady Liberty’s heart was troubled.
Her youngest son, a dreamer whose mind explored ideas as big as the stars and as small as the wing of a bee, a thinker with a smile like a lighthouse beacon, a young man whose hands were never idle and whose goodwill never faltered—this young son came to her and said, “Mother, I love the people of our country. If I am ruler, they will rule through my hand and their concerns will be my own. We will unite together to right the wrongs my foolish brother has done to us and to the world.” Lady Liberty’s heart was now greatly troubled.
“You are too young, my son,” she said. “Who will listen to you? You are too different, too innocent. You hope for the impossible.” She smiled at him with love in her eyes. “Your time will come, but not yet. You cannot do this. You cannot succeed. Wait awhile.”
He refused, insisting that the country needed what he could offer. Lady Liberty saw the faith in his heart, the hope in his face, and the goodness of his soul. She could not refuse his request. But what about her other children? Lady Liberty’s heart was heavy as well as troubled.
She called her children together. “Only one of you will rule our country. We will have a contest and let the people decide.”
The oldest son scoffed and said, “There are three of us! The tradition is to let the people decide between two.”
This was quite true. Lady Liberty thought a moment. “My daughter and youngest son have similar ideas and plans. Your plans are more like the foolish son’s. But the people must have a choice. Let my younger children compete against each other, and the winner will compete against you.”
This was agreeable to all. Lady Liberty set the rules of the contest for her two younger children, her daughter and youngest son. “You will go out among the people. They each have one treasure to give their future ruler. The one who brings me the most valuable treasure will be the winner.”
The daughter laughed. “This will be easy. All across the country I am known as your daughter. It will be a simple matter to collect the people’s treasure.” Lady Liberty nodded, but she worried to herself that her daughter’s fame lay greatly in her ambition and quest for power. If she won this initial contest, could she prevail against the oldest son who was growing more like the foolish son every day?
The youngest son said nothing, just looked out across the country with a thoughtful expression.
The daughter went straight to work. She reasoned that gold was the most valuable treasure in all the land. But not all the people had gold to give to their choice of ruler. So she would only travel to places where the people had gold. She would only accept gold, she would do anything, say anything, to convince the people with gold treasure to give it to her. She was smart, she had good ideas, and everyone knew who she was. This was a plan that would not fail. In no time at all she would have collected a valuable treasure that no one could rival. Her younger brother, the foolish child, would go home empty handed and properly chastened for being such a bright-eyed dreamer. Her own eyes, brightened by her ambition and plans, sharply surveyed the country, assessing each person according to his potential gold-giving ability.
An old man from the towering mountains came to her and offered her a grimy bit of broken glass. “Here is my treasure. Come to my village and my people will give you more.” But she turned up her nose at him.
“I have no need of your rubbish. I will visit villages that have gold. If you have no gold, be off with you!” And she sent the man away in sadness.
A young woman whose dark skin glowed with prairie sun and wind came to her and offered her a bit of rock. “Here is my treasure. My part of the country has lots of this sort of treasure and if you come, we will give it to you.”
The daughter laughed and shooed her away. “Why would I want your old rocks when I can have gold?”
Over and over, the same thing happened, from beaches to desert, from farms to forests. The daughter collected gold, but when other sorts of “treasure” were offered her, she turned up her nose. Those bits of rubble had no place in her plans and she had no time to waste on anyone who could not help her win.
While the daughter was collecting her gold, the youngest son was also at work. He traveled across the country, talking with everyone he met. Some were rich, some were poor. Some smart, some foolish. Some old and some young. They had many ideas about how things should be done. Their many ideas caused many arguments—which is not all bad.
The youngest son listened to each of them, and learned what they were worried about and what they wished to do to help heal the country from the scourge of his foolish brother. He looked them in the eyes and smiled his beacon smile and said, “Don’t give up. Don’t let anyone tell you your dreams are useless. Hope is power, and you are strong. We can right the wrongs in this country. I am in this with you.” He told them about his own ideas, and they were pleased to discover that he truly had been listening to them and their concerns.
His words and his ideas created such hope and joy that soon people from every corner of the nation were bringing their treasure to him and asking him to take it. Some brought gold, but most brought rocks and bits of dirty glass—the very rubbish and rubble the daughter had scorned. But the youngest son accepted the offerings with true appreciation. Soon he had buckets and wheelbarrows full of this unlikely “treasure.”
The daughter laughed. “What good is a pile of rocks? Rocks don’t count. Broken glass doesn’t count. They may give you their treasure, brother, but it is worthless.”
The people stared at her, dismay in their hearts. If she called their treasure worthless, then did she think they, too, were worthless? It made them all the more determined to give their treasure to the youngest son, who walked among them as one of them and who gave them respect and told them to hope.
At the end of the contest, the brother and sister brought their treasures to Lady Liberty. The daughter’s pile of gold glimmered under the sun, dazzling the eyes with its beauty.
The youngest son’s treasure surrounded him in great mounds, dull and ugly and dirty. His treasure was three times the amount of hers. But it was only trash.
“I have won, mother!” shouted the daughter. “I am the one to compete against my older brother to rule the country. Look at my gold! Is it not the most valuable thing in the country?”
Lady Liberty agreed that it was truly stunning in its beauty and great worth. “But what about your younger brother? His treasure is much larger.”
The daughter scowled. “But it is rocks and broken glass. There is nothing valuable about that.”
Lady Liberty glanced at her son, who was smiling with affection at his unattractive piles of gravel. “Nothing valuable? Look a little closer.”
The daughter, older son, and all the on-lookers stared. Soon the pile of gray rock and glass shifted and swirled. A great cloud of dust and debris surrounded them all, making them choke and gasp. When the dust settled, no one could speak.
Where the rock had been now lay piles of glittering, glimmering rubies, emeralds, sapphires. Every bit of broken glass had been transformed into a sparkling diamond. The youngest son’s treasure was by far the most valuable anyone could ever imagine.
“Impossible!” shouted the daughter. “What trickery is this?”
The youngest son flashed his smile at her. “It’s not a trick. You are just now seeing them as I always saw them.” He picked up a large ruby, turning it in the light until it flashed like fire. “They were always jewels. Each one reminds me of one of my fellow citizens, my friends. Amazing people. They are the real treasure, not the gold or the jewels.”
Then he turned to Lady Liberty and bowed. “Mother, I’ve brought you the most valuable treasure in the land. I’ve brought you our people.” He gestured to the jewels.
Lady Liberty blinked tears from her eyes. “It takes a wise person, my son, to see the value in what looks worthless and common. I was wrong to say you were unready. But you still must face your older brother to determine who will rule this country. Even with your good ideas, wisdom, and hope, it will be no easy task. Are you certain you can succeed?”
The youngest son looked at the glittering jewels around him, seeing in each facet a reflection of the person who gave it to him. The combined hope and wisdom contained in each jewel created a glow that out-shown even his brightest smile. He turned back to Lady Liberty, his voice strong and confident.
“Yes, mother,” he said. “we can.”
To be continued.
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