An old man, going a lone highway came at the evening cold and gray, to a chasm, vast and deep and wide, through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim; the sullen stream held no fears for him, but he turned when safe on the other side, and built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” said the fellow pilgrim near, “You are wasting strength, building here. Your journey will end with the ending day, you never again must come this way. You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide, why build the bridge this eventide?”
The builder lifted his old gray head, “Good friend, in the past I have come,” he said. “There followeth after me today, a youth whose feet must pass this way. The chasm that has been naught to me, to that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be. He too must cross in the twilight dim, good friend, I’m building this bridge for him.”
Submitted by Carmen V. Perkins, Ph.D.