The Mountain of Life

There were once three brothers, each of them alike. God saw them and came down, one day, to offer himself as a guide. He presented three paths, each for them to hike. They were to follow the one they chose every day until they died. The first brother picked the simple trail. It was straight and wide from beginning to end, almost impossible to fail. And it was easy, too easy, allowing him to cruise through like a snail. He was content with such relief and happiness, living life so comfortably, but he finished his walk most miserably. Because when he looked back, he could see only an ocean of trees so bleak and pale. And he perished very sad and frail, for his life had become so stale. The second brother then chose the second way. It was deep in the woods, curving left and right, rolling up and down, and as he neared the end of his trek, a hill there lay. And it was annoying, too annoying; "God shouldn't have put a hill here or twisted my path.", he'd say. He was confused by his dull and unpleasant hike, traveling such length and height, but he died deeming his walk alright. Because when he looked back, he could see the tops of the trees and the turns and twists of his way. And it was interesting, so at the end of the day, his hike felt okay. The third brother was forced to take the third route. It directed him to a great mountain, making him cry out and pout. And it was treacherous, too treacherous; "Why would you let this happen to me, God?!?" he'd shout. He was miserable in his long and harrowing journey, climbing up this terrible slope, but he left the world with the most abundant joy and hope. Because when he looked back, he could see the rivers, the clouds, the fields, the forests, everything to be seen for miles out. And he finally realized, without any doubt, this... this is what his life was all about.


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