Long ago, a young boy was stolen from his home and taken to a land across the sea.

There he was sold into slavery and treated

as though he were a beast.

His masters were cold, callous, and cruel.

They mocked him. They beat him. They starved him.

They did these things for pleasure. And they did them often.

Yet this young boy refused to lose hope.

He believed that one day he would be free,

and that one day he would find the way home.

And so it was that, many years later,

this young boy, now a man, managed to escape.

And through some miracle, he found his way back home—

to a land across the sea.

But when he walked through his former village

he found it abandoned.

His people were gone, killed by famine and a deadly disease.

Heartbroken, he went to a neighboring nation

and begged for refuge.

“My home,” said he. “It’s gone—taken away from me.”

The people listened to his story and were moved to compassion.

Hearts open, they reached out and made him one of their own.

For in him they saw great courage. In him they saw great strength.

In time he became a leader—a man they called Greatheart.

But he did not feel like he deserved that name, for if his heart was

“great,” it was great with hatred—hatred for his former masters.

“They took everything from me,” he raged. “My youth,

my family, my friends, my joy—they took it all!

One day I will make them suffer as I have suffered.”

For years all he could think about was revenge.

It became his obsession. Eventually his anger became

so intense that even food lost its flavor, because to him

nothing could taste better than revenge.

One day, during a long and terrible winter, a scout told

Greatheart some startling news: a group of people

had built a village on his former homeland. Intrigued,

Greatheart traveled on foot to see these people,

and perhaps even to build an alliance with them.

Cresting a small hill, he looked out at the place that

had once been his homeland . . . and felt his stomach drop.

There, building on the land of his forefathers, were

the people who had taken everything from him!

Breathing hard, he narrowed his eyes. They were not exactly

the same people, but they were the same kind of people—from

the same land. Their manner and dress made it undeniable.

Greatheart shook with fury. “How dare they!” he thought.

“They took everything from me and now they have built their

homes on my land!” He sat down hard and began to consider

all the ways in which he could make them suffer.

Yet even at that distance, Greatheart could see that these

people were already suffering. The winter had been cold and

harsh and the people had been unprepared. Food was scarce,

the wind was fierce, and the people huddled together for warmth.

And every day, just beyond the village, the men would dig

new graves. And the children would weep.

Greatheart felt an unexpected urge to help them, but he quickly

brushed it aside. Why should he help them? These were the same

kind of people who had enslaved him! They deserved this!

But as he watched them, his eyes fixed on one small boy.

The child sat with his back against the wall of a home,

his knees pressed tightly against his chest. The boy was

shivering. Greatheart felt a lump form in his throat.

For in that moment he saw himself in these people.

“I was once that little boy,” thought he.

“Their story is my story. We are WE.”

Filled with compassion, he sent his scout ahead to meet the

people. Greatheart came the next day, carrying a basket of food.

And with him came the promise of spring.

For as he stepped toward them and spoke to them

in their language, his heart was filled with the peace

that comes from a new beginning.

“I am Greatheart,” said he, his voice breaking. “I was once held

captive by your people, and because of this I know your pain.

I know what hunger feels like.”

As he offered them food, the people gathered around and

embraced him—thanking him for saving their lives.

Then, without warning, Greatheart fell to his knees and began

to weep. For the first time in years he felt free. Free of the

bondage of hatred. Free of the bondage of war. For as we

love and serve one another, our hearts become free.

Greatheart had finally found the way home.

A Storm Approaches

The old man finished speaking as we thoughtfully

chewed on the remainder of our meal.

“I’m not sure I like that legend,” said Strong Wolf.

“Oh?” said the old man. “Why is that?”

Strong Wolf shrugged. “He didn’t really know those people.

They could have been bad, just like the ones who enslaved

him. He should have let them fend for themselves.”

“I find that interesting,” said the Trailwalker.

“Why is that?”

“Because that story is true and those people

are your ancestors. So, if Greatheart had not helped

them, you might not be standing here today.”

He paused to let that thought sink in.

Strong Wolf lowered his gaze.

“Pack your things,” added the Trailwalker.

“Today, WE must walk far.”

We packed our bags and began walking in silence.

Dark clouds rolled in from beyond the red cliffs. Out of the

corner of my eye, I noticed that Strong Wolf was gritting

his teeth and leaning harder against his walking stick.

Thinking about the legend of Greatheart, I offered

to help him. Surprisingly, he pushed my hand away

and quickened his pace. I shook my head.

“Stubborn,” I muttered. “Always stubborn.”

We walked along the river for several more hours.

When we stopped to rest, Strong Wolf sat down

hard, clutched his leg, and winced in pain.

He was shaking and sweating profusely.

Just then I felt a few drops of rain on my forehead.

Strong Wolf cursed. “And now it’s raining!”

I too was disappointed. We were already going at a

slow pace and the rain would only make it worse.

The Trailwalker led us to a shelter under a rock ledge.

“I would not complain about the rain,” said he.

“For like the food we eat, the rain is a gift from our Creator.”

“It does not feel like a gift,” grunted Strong Wolf.

Beyond the ledge, the rain was coming down hard.

“Then let me tell you the fourth legend,” said the

Trailwalker. “It is called The Legend of the Wellspring.”