Two Stories c/Preface

8/14/2019 Two Stories c/Preface

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Preface

My name is Patrick. I am in my early 60 s and live in a nursing home.� Recently, having nothing better to do, I started taking an inventory of my life. Irealized that I had some memorable moments but I became concerned by the timeswhen I had hurt people. Soon I realized that , in my youth, I had heard twostories, told to me by two different people at two different times. These storiesare remarkable because I can remember them in great detail while other memoriesare clouded by time. I can no longer remember who told these stories to me but Ifeel that their origins are not important. What has become quite evident is thefact that these stories have been passed down across time for many generations.They are meant to tell a story, to set an example, and then be passed along tosomeone else. I call them pass a longs.

First, I am fulfilling my responsibility by publishing these stories. Ipresent them to you along with a few simple drawings to give you a visualrepresentation of the stories.

Second, I ask that this book be shared with someone else. If there is ayoung child in your life, then take some time and read the stories to the child.If you are a child and reading this book for yourself I ask you to share it withone of your friends. If everyone who comes in contact with these stories were todo this then maybe the world would be a better place.

I wish to tell you what these stories have meant to me.First, I have firmly become a believer in the principle of; Ama et fac quod �

vis. Love and do as you will. This is the principle message of the Bible and all� other religious documents. These stories point us in this direction.

Second, I discovered early on that everyone must love at least one otherperson and we also must be loved by someone else. If this doesn t happen we � suffer. We must know that we are worthwhile to ourselves and to others, if thisnot the case we will suffer immensely. These stories carry the same message.

There is not much more to say. The stories have a mysterious origin and oncethey have been read must be passed on either by word of mouth or in book format.

Be loved and be happy.TkX,Patrick McShane

The Wise Old Man of the Mountain



Many years ago while I was traveling about I went to Warm Lake in ValleyCounty, Idaho. I visited a place called Billy Rice. A sandy swimming beach onceused by the Boy Scouts of America as a summer camp called Camp Billy Rice. It wasa warm sunny summer day and we, I had a couple of friends with me, decided to restand take in the view. We found several large round granite boulders surrounded bysand. We sat around a particular inviting boulder. The pine trees growing close tothe rock released a fresh pine fragrance. The sound of our voices was reflected bythe branches. It was a perfect setting.

While we were reminiscing about days gone by, one of my traveling companionsasked me if I would tell then the story about a hermit. He had remembered metelling the story at a closing campfire and although he didn t remember it all, he � would like to hear it again. Ok, I will tell you the story, as long as you humor� me and let me be your guide in mental trip. I began.

Close your eyes. We are going to travel back in time to a day long, long,long ago. It is a time shrouded in a mystic mist. It is so clouded that realitycan no longer be separated from fact, a very long time ago.

We are walking on a narrow mountain road through rugged mountains coveredwith tall dark green pine trees. It is winter and the first hints of snow arebourn on the north winds. Soon we approach a small village. It is composed ofseveral log buildings and several dwellings. In the center of the village is aplain but pleasant fountain bubbling away. Standing at the fountain we lookaround.

Look, over there. To your right. See that cottage? There appears to be� light coming from the two windows. Everyone agreed and we walked briskly to the� door for it was getting colder and coming on to dark.

Knocking on the wooden door we heard footfalls approaching. The door openedto reveal four people. There was a middle aged man and woman and two small lads.They appeared to be middle class people and were dressed accordingly.

Yes, how may I help you, said the man. Before I could answer he continued,� � My name is Jason and this is my wife Deidre and my twin boys Sean and Seamus.� �

I answered, My name is Patrick and my friends and I have come from many� miles away to meet and talk with the old man that we understand lives near here.

Certainly there is an old man among us and he is known for his wisdom but� before I give you directions to his cabin you must come in and refresh yourselves.Do come in and warm yourselves by the fire. �

We gladly entered the cabin and as we walked towards the inviting fire wewere struck by the smell of simmering mutton stew held in a copper kettle hung inthe large stone fireplace. We were issued to several comfortable chairs and becameinvolved in warming ourselves.

Are you hungry?, asked Jason. We realized that, indeed, we were hungry.� � � Yes, I replied, we are hungry.� � � �

Deidre, would fetch our visitors some stew? Yes, my dear, coming right� � � up, Deidre replied. It wasn t long before we were all holding large wooden bowls� � full of steaming mutton stew. We were given large wooden spoons, so large that itwas difficult to get them into our mouths, but we were hungry and nothing wasgoing to stop us from eating. Deidre also gave us a piece of warm buttered breadwhich must have been baked that morning.

While we were thus engaged Jason said, While you are eating I will tell you� about our old man. Please do, I replied.� � �

First you must realize that we do not know the name of this old man, said� � Jason. One day, at the full moon, he just appeared in the village. No one had seenhim before. Everyone watched as he went about the square visiting several shops.He gathered a small bundle and asked that the bulk of his needs be delivered tohim at his cabin on the mountain top. Without ever so mush a word and littlerecognition of others he quietly walked out of the village and returned to hisdwelling. Everyone was bewildered. Who was this old man? Where did he come from?What was he doing in our village. It soon became the topic of daily gossip.

Jason continued, On the next full moon the old man came into the village�



and repeated the same movements of the month before. As time went on it becamepart of our lives. We knew that with the coming of each full moon we would see theold man. He continued to remain quiet, never talking with anyone, staling tohimself. �

One day when the old man was due there occurred an event that would change� our lives unlike anything before. An elderly widow who had three teenaged boys wasbeside herself. The boys were constantly getting into trouble. She asked everyonefor help talking to the minister, the constable, even the store keeper. No one hadany workable advise. Into this turmoil came toe old man. More to vent herfrustration than seeking advise, the old woman came to the old man and said, Old � man, do something! I need help. My boys are determined to terrorize the village. � The old man looked at her, saying nothing. Before he left the village, however, hewent to the old woman s cottage and upon entering spent a goodly amount of time� talking with the boys. No one knows what was said but it wasn t long before people � began to notice that the boys were no longer getting into trouble, in fact, theygrew into fine outstanding citizens. No one knows what was said that day. Thewoman, when asked about it, replied that she felt it was not her place to revealwhat had transpired.

As time moved on people looked forward to the day of the full moon and thevisit of the old man. As regular as clockwork the old man would appear, collecthis supplies, and return to his cabin. Many times people would stop him on thesevisits and ask him his name. The old man would smile at them but continue on hisway. No one was apparently to know his name.

In order to have something to call him everyone began to call him the wise � old man of the mountain. The Wise Old Man was their treasure.�

There was another remarkable event. A few days before the Wise Old Man wasdue in the village there was a terrible fire. Because they were so poor and awayfrom proper resources a cottage burned to the ground. Unfortunately a lovely youngwoman was lost. Her husband was in the depth of despair. Into this turmoil walkedthe old man. Quickly the minister, who had had no positive influence and fearing apossible suicide, told the old man of the situation. As usual the old man saidnothing but before he left he stopped at the tent wherein lived the tragic youngman. Soon people noticed that the young man began building a new cabin on the spotwhere the original cabin stood. His attitude towards dwelt on the future and nottragedy. People were again amazed. The old man had shown that he was truly a WiseOld Man.

It wasn t long before people from distant villages came to us looking after� the old man. They couldn t wait for him to come down into the village for supplies� but asked for directions as how to get to his cabin. You must realize that thistrek was long and difficult. The path was steep, narrow, and wound through deepdark woods. They couldn t wait, they had to go. Everyone noticed that people would� look deeply worried about something. When they were next seen, coming back fromthe hike, they were happy and looked quite content. No one ever knew what advisethey received they simply knew it was good.

One spring day a couple of teenagers with nothing better to do sat in frontof the pool hall wondering how they could show that the old man was not as smartas everyone said he was. One of the boys got an idea and said, We re going to pay � �

the old man a visit. Along the way I will catch a small bird. When we arrive atthe old man s cabin I will knock at the door and when the old man opens the door I� will hide the bird behind my back and say, old man of the mountain, what do I� have behind my back. The old man is smart and he will say Son, you have a bird.� � � Then I will say, Yes, but is it alive or is it dead? If the old man says that it� � is alive, I will crush it s neck and show him a dead bird. If he says it is alive,� I will show him a dead bird. On the other hand, if he says it is dead, I will holdout my hand and let the bird fly away. Either way we ve got em. We will show� � everyone that is just like everyone else, stupid. �

The boys began the arduous journey up the mountain and along the way theycaught a small sparrow. They placed the sparrow in a small wooden cage that they



brought along to suit their purpose.Three hours into their hike they came upon the old man s cabin. They were �

exhausted and in a bad mood. Knocking on the door they waited. Soon they heard theheavy shuffling and tap, tap, tap of the old man s walking stick. They also heard� a low growl coming from the old man s wolf hound. The growl added anxiety to their� already unstable minds.

Yes, my boys, what can I do for you, asked the old man.� �

We wish to ask you a question, quivered the voice of one of the boys.� �

What is your question?, asked the old man.� �

What do I have behind my back, asked the lad.� �

You have a bird, quickly replied the old man.� �

Yes, but is it alive or is it dead, old man, asked the youth.� �

The old man thought for a while and drawing himself to a former heightreplied,

It is as you will it.� � �

The Wise Old Man of the Mountain smiled at the cheeky boys, turnedaround, closed toe door quietly, and was heard to walk into his home.

The boys returned to the village and told no one of the event. It wasn t for � a number of years that people began to hear of the story.

Time went on, the reputation of the old man increased and people were seento make the long journey seeking advise and solace.People around here like to think that the Wise Old Man has come from God, maybe heIS God, who knows. We believe that the story tells us that the bird represents ourlives and everyone is like that cheeky lad. At times we tempt God and He tells usthat it is up to us to either make our lives prosperous or kill everything that isgood and holy and substitute a life of evil. It s up to us. �

Well, you can imagine that we were completely taken aback by this story.After taking a night s rest with Jason and his family we walked up the mountain to� visit the old man. When we arrived the old man bade us come in and rest our wearybodies. He offered us refreshments. We assured the old man that we did not haveany issues that needed his attention. We simply wanted to meet him and maybe gethis blessings on ourselves. As we left to return to the village the old man tookour hands and looking deep into our eyes he touched our souls.

We returned to Jason s home to let him know that we had met the old man.� Jason asked what we had discussed and to our surprise no one could utter a word.It was as if our encounters were personal and private. I simply said, Oh � nothing. �

We left that village the following morning warm in the knowledge that we hadgained new friends and had had an inspiring encounter with the Wise Old Man of theMountain.

I am sorry friends, I said, as the story came to and found ourselves again� � in Warm Lake. We savored the moment, not speaking, drinking in the setting. No onewanted to leave but we all had responsibilities and they were calling.

TkX,Patrick McShane



The Lowly Stone Cutter

Not many days ago Phillip, a good friend of mine, came over to my houseafter work. After the obligatory greetings were over and the tops of two SamuelAdams beers had been twisted Phillip asked me a question.

Do you remember last year when you and I went to Warm Lake to visit the� location of the former Camp Billy Rice? It was in the summer and a beautiful day.We sat around a boulder and you told us the story about the Wise Old Man of theMountain. We took Peter with us. �

I remember it well, I replied.� �

Do you remember another story you told at another campfire a year later. I� think you called it Stonecutter .� � �

I do know of what you speak.� �

Why don t we call Peter and ask him if he would like to do the trip again� for another story time. I don t think he has heard this other story.� �

Good idea, I said, I ll call him now.� � � � �

Picking up my cell phone I quick dialed Peter and he eagerly agreed thatsuch a trip was in order.

The following weekend the three of us found ourselves seated around the sameboulder at Warm Lake. This time it was early fall and the breeze was scented, notby pine, but rather by the fresh smell of the water wafted to us by a mildwesterly wind.

I began, Close your eyes and travel with me again. See us back in time to� an epoch far beyond the time of the Wise Old Man. We are no longer in themountains but have walked along the same pathway into the high mountain desert. Wesoon find ourselves in the center of a small town complete with stores and houses.One house stood out in particular, inviting us to approach in anticipation, ofwhat, we were soon to discover.

We found ourselves standing in front of a pretty dwelling surrounded by alow picket fence and flowers. On the front covered porch sat an old man rockingback and forth in an ancient rocking chair. He had something in his hands,something that we didn t recognize.�

Greetings, gents. What can I do fer ya? , said the old man.� �

We are looking for the stonecutter, I answered, would you know of him?� � � �

That would be me, said the old man, come and sit a spell.� � � �

We climbed the two steps onto the wooden porch and took up three chairs,pulling then closer to the old man.

Let me tell you the story of my life, said the old man.� �

When I was much younger I was never satisfied with being a stonecutter. I� always thought that the job of a stonecutter was a lowly job, something to beashamed of. �

One night, after I had gone to bed I sank into a deep sleep. In that sleep Isaw another stonecutter who was unhappy as I was. This fella prayed to the Lordasking to be made the Sun. He thought that to be the Sun would be the greatestthing possible. The Lord granted his wish and made him the Sun. He was ever sohappy. He shown all around the world on people and animals alike. He made things

grow, warmed the oceans of the world, he was the greatest. Until one day a cloudcame along and blocked his life giving rays from the earth below. He was angry andas hard as he tried he could not shine through the clouds.

Lord, he prayed, make me a cloud. Make me a cloud so I can go about the� � � world and drop nourishing rain upon the plants. I will give water to the animals,quench roaring fires, and simply be the greatest. The Lord granted his wish and� made him a wonderful billowing cloud. The man was happy. He went about the worldnourishing both plants and animals. The forests of the world drank deeply of thelife giving waters, he was indeed happy.

The one day as he went about his work he was met head on by a furious wind.Try as he might he could not move past this horrendous north wind. He pushed and



strained but to no avail. In anger and frustration the man again dropped into adeep sleep and dreamed.

The young man prayed and said, Lord, I can see that being the Sun, or a� Cloud are not the greatest thing to be but that the Great North Wind is morepowerful. Please make me the Great North Wind. �

The Lord granted this wish and made him the Great North Wind.Times were again grand. He went hither and yon plowing clouds about, cooling

the great deserts, and making life, in general, quite pleasant. Oh yes, there weretimes when he acted out of spite and destroyed some things, but overall he washappy and contented in the knowledge that he was useful.

Until One day he blew up against a huge mountain. Try as he might, he could� not get past the mountain. He became frustrated. His face grew white hot. He wasagain not the greatest thing possible, being the mountain was the greatest.

Again in a deep sleep he prayed to the Lord. Lord, I am ashamed yet again.� I come to you to ask that you make me that Mountain. To be a Mountain is thegreatest thing ever.

The Lord granted him yet another wish, though by now he was getting tired ofthis young man.

Now the lad stood tall above everything. The Sun shone on his vast meadows.The Clouds brought nourishment, the Wind, cooling scented breezes. He was trulygrateful. He was lord and master of all.

Until �

One day as he surveyed his treasures he heard a tiny tapping sound. What is � that I hear? I feel a slight pain in one of my cliffs. Looking around he � discovered an old stonecutter tapping away at a rock face. He was harvestingstone, taking it home and making small figures for passing school children. Theyouth quickly realized that to be a lowly stonecutter was the greatest thingimaginable.

Before the transformation could happen, however, our dreamer was rudelyawakened by a loud earth shaking noise. Now he would never know what the shapeshifter would discover.

Sitting in his rocking chair, holding a small stone and a cutting tool inhis hands he thought to himself that he was truly a lowly, worthless person.Within minutes, however, the stone cutter saw a very old man approach himseemingly from nowhere. He wondered what this could mean, he really didn t want to � talk with anyone right now.

The old man stepped up onto the porch and took a chair close to thestonecutter.

What is it that you wish, asked the cutter.� �

I am the person of your dreams. I am the one who granted you your wishes.� Shall we continue our journey? �

By all means, answered the stone cutter.� �

The lad dropped again into a deep sleep. Together the story continued.Lord, make me a stone cutter, said the boy. Instantly he was transformed� �

into a Stone Cutter. He watched as this man worked a lifetime in the quarry. Whenhe retired he spent his days in his rocking chair carving little animal figures instone and giving them to children as they passed his cottage. He was struck by the

fact that the children who received the stone figures went on their way smilingand quite happy. He had become valuable person. He was truly great.

Once the dreamer had seen all he awoke. The old man had disappeared and hespent the remainder of his days quite content.

This the message to all of us, to be the greatest person possible is tobecome yourself, to the fullest possible extent. Nothing can ever be greater.

TkX,Patrick



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Two Stories c/Preface