Agathos, The Rocky Island, and Other Stories

by Chris Wright

  Some Bible verses:

  On that day, when evening came, He [Jesus] said to them, "Let us go over to the other side." Leaving the crowd, they took Him along with them in the boat, just as He was; and other boats were with Him.

  And there arose a fierce gale of wind, and the waves were breaking over the boat so much that the boat was already filling up. Jesus Himself was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke Him and said to Him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"

  And He got up and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, "Hush, be still." And the wind died down and it became perfectly calm. And He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?"

  They became very much afraid and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?" (Mark 4:35-41)

  Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful." (John 14:27)

  WAITING

  Original story by Margaret Gatty

  The house crickets must have led a sorry life before people built houses with fireplaces; before there were kitchen hearths with warm nooks in the corners where they could sing their cheerful songs, coming out every now and then to bask in the glow of the comforting fire.

  There was a time when the house crickets had no place to shelter, except in hollow trees, or cracks in rocks and stones, or some equally gloomy place. Besides all this, they had to put up with the mockery of creatures who were perfectly comfortable themselves, and so could not understand their lack of cheerfulness.

  "Why don't you go and jump and sing in the fields with your cousins the grasshoppers?" a spider once complained, as she tried to twist her web in a hole in a wall where she found a house cricket hiding. "I'm sure your legs are long enough -- if you'd only take the trouble to unbend them. The trouble with you and your family is that you all keep moping in corners like this, when you should be outside leaping about and enjoying yourselves. And I dare say your family could sing a lot more loudly -- if you only put your minds to it."

  Now this was such a long speech for a busy spider to make, that the house cricket felt perhaps he ought to take notice. Something, he decided, must be very wrong with him, but what that something was he had no idea. All the other creatures seemed contented. The spider, for instance, was quite at home in the corner the cricket found so dismal. The flies, the bees, the ants were satisfied with life -- as was the mole who sometimes came up from burrowing to tell wonderful stories of his underground delights.

  The cricket thought of the birds with their joyful songs, and of the huge beasts that walked about like giants in the fields -- they all seemed happy enough. Every one of them had the home he liked, and not one was jealous of the other.

  But with the house crickets it was exactly the opposite. They never felt at home anywhere. It always seemed to them that they were looking for something that was not there, some place that could never be found, some situation where they could be at peace at last.

  This cricket knew he was built for energy, yet he felt compelled to live in dark holes. Yes, he could make music, but few had ever heard him make it. Life for him was just one long complaint.

  Often he would meet with other house crickets and talk the matter over. They looked at their long folded-up legs, and as far as they could see they were exactly like the legs of their cousins the grasshoppers. Yet the idea of jumping about in the grass all day long filled them with horror. One day an unusually brave cricket decided to go out into the big field and talk to the grasshoppers about their problems.

  The first grasshopper he saw agreed to go back with him and see if he could offer any help. Perhaps, he said, the crickets were unwell, or had been badly looked after when they were young and had suffered some damage to their legs.

  The crickets were waiting in the foot of a hollow tree where they had taken shelter, and the grasshopper got there ahead of the cricket, for he went along in great leaps and bounds. In fact, he arrived so suddenly that the waiting crickets were taken aback by what they called impolite behaviour.

  Carefully the grasshopper examined the crickets' legs and knees. He pulled their legs straight, for he thought there might be some fault in the way they were put together. But he could find nothing amiss. He could see all the crickets sitting there, with their legs and bodies as nicely made as his own, yet the crickets had no energy for jumping.

  But before he could give his findings, he was overcome with the fidgets, and said, "You must excuse me, my cousins, for I have cramp in my left leg. I must jump."

  And jump he did: once, twice, three times, and was out of the tree. Whether on purpose or by accident, he kept jumping and was never seen again.

  One day the mole emerged from one of his tunnels beside the hollow tree, and heard the crickets complaining about life.

  "What is the use of all this grumbling?" he asked them, when he had heard enough. "You admit that every other creature is perfect in its way, and happy."

  The crickets said they agreed.

  "Well then," the mole continued, "I am quite sure you are perfect in your way too, although you have not yet found out your purpose in life. One day I am certain you will discover why you are made as you are."

  The crickets asked the mole if he knew what he was talking about, for it seemed extremely unlikely to them that they could have any reason for living.

  "Listen to me," the mole said patiently. "Have you ever thought what it must be like for a young mole when he first begins to burrow in the earth? Do you think he knows why he's doing it? It's a complete working in the dark." The mole paused here for the crickets to smile at his joke, but they just stared at him.

  "Dear me," the mole said, "can you imagine what a hardship it must be to drive your nose into the ground, hour after hour, without having any idea why you are doing it? I remember it well myself. We pushed the earth away until we had formed a perfect underground palace. And the worms and grubs we found along the way ..." The mole paused and licked his lips. "Well, I really must be going."

  "No, wait," the crickets called. "If we knew what purpose we have in life, then we would gladly do it. As it is, we have nothing to do."

  "It's nonsense to talk of having nothing to do," the mole said. "Think about what you already do each day. In the morning you hunt for the sunny places because they are warm. In the evening you search for small hiding places for shelter."

  "And what's the use of that?" one cricket asked rudely.

  "Ah," the mole said, "on the farm near here there was once a young ox. As soon as he could run about he kept banging his clumsy head against everything he met. None of us could tell why, and many of our friends were much offended by what they thought was his lack of manners. The farm dogs were much amused, and used to bark at him -- even close to him at times -- as he lowered his head to them."

  The crickets looked at each other and yawned. They could think of no reason why the mole was telling them this story.

  "Well," the mole went on, ignoring the crickets' rudeness, "the secret came out at last. Two fine horns grew out of the head of that young ox, and everyone understood the reason for all the butting. Except the farm dogs. One of them was playing the old barking game, and got firmly tossed into the air for his pains. So you see, everything fits in at last, my friends, even if it means waiting."

  The crickets realised they had been fortunate that the mole had given them this advice, because a fox had recently suggested they should all starve themselves to death and put an end to their whole miserable race, for he had agreed with the crickets that they seemed to serve no useful purpose in the world.

  But the mole's good sense gave them a different view on life, and from that time on hope grew in their hearts until it created a sort of happiness in itself. So they decided to wait, but in the meantime they continued to watch for the warm sun in the morning, as their friend the mole had advised.

  In the evenings they hid i
n small hollows in trees and walls, and told each other stories of their early ancestors who had travelled around the world, preferring hot countries. There was a rumour that a cricket family had discovered a sort of dreamland at the mouth of a volcano, but no one had ever returned from there to say that this was true, for they were doubtless swept away at the first eruption that took place.

  The crickets knew of ancestors who long ago had searched out fires made by early human hands. Some of these fires were built by wanderers in forests, others were made by dwellers in tents. Whenever news of a new fire spread, the crickets had hurried there, but too late. The travellers had put the fires out and moved on.

  "Now," the crickets agreed, when they had finished retelling their family history, "we must do as the mole says, and wait."

  Then one of the crickets sang in a high-pitched voice, "Everything will be perfect at last. There is a reason why we are here." And the others joined in as loudly as they could.

  The day they were all waiting for arrived at long last. People came and built houses. Inside the houses they made chimneys, and in each hearth they put a flat stone. In these dwellings all the doubts and woes of the crickets' lives were over. The waiting seemed like a dream that faded into nothing. Oh, what joy the crickets felt. How loudly they shouted, how high they sprang.

  "Mole was right," they sang. "Everything is perfect now, for no one could be as happy as we are."

  "Grandmother," they heard a young girl ask an old woman sitting by the hearth, "what is that I hear singing so loudly in the corner?"

  "I do not hear it, my dear," the old woman answered, "for my hearing is poor. But if something is singing, then it must be happy and enjoying the warmth of this fire as much as I am. You know what the Good Book says: 'Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.'"

  So it is no wonder that round those warm and friendly fires no voice is louder, no voice more joyful, than that of the house cricket. Now at last the crickets knew why they had been born as they were. There was a point to their lives after all, but it took the wisdom of the mole to explain it to them.

  Some say crickets bring a blessing to the family around whose hearth they settle. And in a way they do, for they bring with them a tale of promises made good. They sing a song of hope rewarded, even though in that happy sound there is neither speech nor language that we can recognize. Yet they have found their answer to the question that so many ask -- why am I here?

  Epilogue

  Why am I here? Have you ever asked God that question? Whether we have great abilities, or many disabilities, the Lord God has a purpose for each one of us. There is something that only you can do for Him. So let's stop complaining about life being unfair or boring. Find out how you can serve the Lord.

  Some Bible verses:

  [Jesus said,] "Then the King will say to those on His right, 'Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.'

  "Then the righteous will answer Him, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?'

  "The King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.' (Matthew 25:34-40, but read the rest of the chapter to find out what happens to those who lived their lives so selfishly that they never even noticed people who were in need.)

  What use is it, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but he has no works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, be warmed and be filled," and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that? Even so faith, if it has no works, is dead, being by itself. (James 2:14-17)

  THE WANDERERS

  Original story by Samuel Wilberforce

  In a filthy hut, built on the edge of a bleak hillside, a poor widow lived with her two sons. She dressed them in torn and dirty rags because she had nothing better for them to wear. Often the boys were hungry and cold, for she had little food.

  The boys had not learnt to read and write, because their mother did not know one letter from another. When they went out to play, the only friends they met were as poorly dressed as they were, for this was a desolate place in which to be born and live.

  One day their mother was taken seriously ill with a fever. No one knew she was ill, except her two sons, and they had no one to turn to for help.

  After a week the widow died, leaving her two sons all alone. As they sat outside their hut crying, a man passing by asked the boys why they were so sad. Quickly they explained about their mother.

  Immediately the man called to his servant who was with him and arranged for the widow to be buried. "And now you must come with me," he told the two boys. "The king is my father, and I will take care of you."

  With this, he led the widow's sons to a beautiful castle where he made sure the dirt was washed away, before giving them the finest clothes instead of their rags.

  "I want you to belong to my family," the man told them, "and I will give you new names." He touched the older brother on the shoulder. "You are now called Leo, which means Lion, for I want you to be brave and bold." Then he took the hand of the other brother. "And you are now Zimri, which means Homeland, for this is your home now. Come and have some good food."

  After Leo and Zimri had eaten the best food they had ever tasted, the king's son introduced them to the many other young people living with him in the castle. They quickly became friends. For the first time in their lives the boys felt happy.

  Some days Leo and Zimri spent their time exploring the castle, and sometimes they played with their new friends in the huge garden. Here they discovered all sorts of flowers, wonderful trees full of singing birds, and brightly painted butterflies flitting from place to place. They were more contented than they had ever imagined could be possible.

  When Leo and Zimri had been in the castle for a few weeks, and were getting bolder, the king's son came over to them and put his hands on their shoulders. "I have come to give you a warning," he said. "As you may have seen, my garden ends at the edge of a vast wilderness."

  "We've seen it," Leo said, "but there's no reason for us to go there. It looks a terrible place."

  "It is indeed a terrible place," the king's son said. "My enemy lives out there, and wants nothing more than to capture those who live here with me."

  Zimri, the younger of the two brothers, clung tightly to the king's son when he heard this. "Will you keep us safe?" he asked.

  The man held onto both boys. "No harm can come to you while you stay here with me," he assured them. "You are in no danger -- unless you cross the line that marks the end of my garden"

  Later that day the boys asked their friends if it really was dangerous to cross the line and enter the wilderness. A girl called Belle said she knew of several young people who had crossed the line. Once there, the enemy had seized them.

  "Where are they now?" Zimri asked.

  Belle looked sad. "I believe they are slaves in the enemy's castle," she said.

  "Didn't they see the line?" Leo asked. "Why would anyone want to cross it?"

  "The enemy is cunning," Belle explained. "He lays out flowers just the other side of the line. Some of them look even more beautiful than the flowers here. But when one of us tries to get them, they lose their colour. But just a bit further into the wilderness there seem to be even more beautiful flowers. And when these too lose their colour, there are more -- just a bit further away again. And then the enemy pounces."

  Leo shook his head. "That is something I wil
l never do," he boasted. "You can be sure the enemy will never capture me like that."

  Zimri stayed silent as he thought of the young people who had been taken into slavery in the wilderness. "Then I must always be careful," he said quietly.

  A few days later Zimri noticed his older brother going very close to the wilderness. Leo laughed and said he was only having a look, and was certainly not going to cross the line.

  "It's strange," Leo said. "When I was close to the castle, the flowers on the other side of the line looked dry and colourless, but now I'm closer they seem to grow brighter and brighter. I wonder why."

  He went right up to the line and noticed that although the flowers close to the line were already fading, there seemed to be a whole carpet of brightly coloured flowers covering the ground as far as the eye could see, just as Belle had said. But his younger brother Zimri persuaded him to return to the castle.

  The next day Leo was running to hide in a game he was playing with Zimri, when he came unexpectedly to the line marking the start of the wilderness -- the line the king's son had warned them they must never cross. At that moment he caught sight of something bright and shiny among the carpet of flowers, and jumped across the line to see what it could be.

  As Leo crossed the line he heard his brother Zimri shouting at him, and in panic he returned to the safety of the castle garden. Leo looked pale when he thought back over what he had just done. He said he could feel his legs shake at the thought of his fortunate escape, and for a time he sat quietly under a tree to recover from his fright.

  The next day Leo again found himself near the line, and looked once more for the bright and shiny object. After all, he told himself, he had crossed the line yesterday and managed to get back safely. Surely he could do it again -- as long as he only went a short way and kept the castle in sight. He begged his younger brother to cross with him.

  At first Zimri shook his head, but when his older brother assured him they would be perfectly safe, he at last agreed to go just a little way into the wilderness. As they crossed the line, very carefully, a brightly coloured bird rose up from under their feet. The boys had never seen such a bird. All the colours of the rainbow shone from its feathers, and its black and scarlet head seemed to sparkle in the sunshine.