Sea Shore

Sea Shore

I saw a man walking along the length of a beach by the sea. He had been walking on this beach his whole life. He never would walk too close to the water- close enough to wet his feet, nor did he abandon the beach for the jungle. The man trudged on and on through the deep sand. Sometimes his feet were heavy and he sank down into the sand, and other times he ran. There were days when he walked only a few feet and days when he traveled miles. Sometimes he would sit and weep and other times he would sing as he went his way.
One day he stopped and thought. He thought of his great quest, the long years of walking alone across the beach. He thought of how far he had come, all the men he had passed on the way. All the foolish people well content to rest. He had never rested, he had fallen and stumbled, but never did he leave his course. Others splashed in the water and sojourned in the shade, but he had stuck to the harsh beach. As he pondered these things he approached a tall pier built on the beach. He climbed to the top to look back to see his footprints across the beach. At the top a stunning sight greeted his eyes. A large wave had come and swept and shifted all the sand so his step could no longer be seen. All that remained of his long life of accomplishments was a few meager steps where he last stood.
Grief pooled in his eyes as he climbed back to the beach. He felt martyred. His life’s work washed away in a fleeting moment. Why – rather how could he go on? Now I saw that while the man was in such a stupor, an old fisherman came up to him. Coming from the same country as the man, he haled him.
“Hey there lad, why such a sullen face?”
“Goodly Sir”, replied the man, “Where have you found the courage to live such a long time on this morbid and ugly earth? I have walked on this cruel beach as long as any man and all I have to prove for it is a few weak footprints. Even these threaten to dissolve.”
“Do you mean that you have not even got your feet wet?” Said the Sea Captain. “This beach was never placed here to be a road. The landlord placed it here for a resting place to weary travelers coming from the jungle and for a safe haven to wayward ships. He did not intend for our footsteps to be a measure of success, he intended them only to lead to the sea.”
“Sir, is this certainly truth?” Questioned the man.
“Aye, ‘tis the truth. Come, now, and go to sea with me. Swim in the deep places.”
“No I reckon not,” answered the man. I must go on with my work. You may settle for your kind but I must keep it up. If I must start over I will, even to a hundred times. I can see my work when it is done, while yours is swallowed entirely by the sea. No, Sir, I cannot believe this folly.”
Now I saw that after this was said the old fisherman left the man to be. The Seaman pushed out his boat and left both man and shore behind. After a time the man also got up and started down the beach. He shook his head and laughed at the “poor old fellow.” I stayed to watch a while, but tired after seeing nothing new. The man kept up his walking and the sea kept washing all his walking away.