The Lighthouse

There was once an island, inhabited by many different people with many different customs. On this island the sun never rose, and the land was forever covered in darkness, with only the moon and stars to see by.

But even darkness does not last forever, and so one day a tower rose from the center of the island high into the sky, a lighthouse shining for miles around, a beacon calling all who would come and learn its ways.

Some on the island were sharp of sight, and so they saw the light in the distance, and in excitement they pointed to it and called out to any who would listen. Those on the north of the island pointed south, while those on the east of the island pointed west. But only few had such strong vision, and many did not understand what those who could see were pointing at. Others understood, but would not believe that they were being truthful. And still others believed, but saw no value in the light, for many had grown accustomed to the darkness.

But some were fascinated by the mystery, and in faith they set off in the direction being pointed, some in groups and others alone, hoping that they might one day find what they could only trust was there. It was a long and treacherous journey, and many gave up in anguish along the way, thinking in bitterness that they had been fooled.

But all those who persevered eventually grew close enough to see the light with their own eyes. And all who laid eyes upon the light eventually reached it. And all who found it learned its secrets, and mastered its ways.

So which are you? Have you discounted the visionaries? Have you called them fools? Or have you trusted their words, searching blindly for what you can only hope to one day find? If the latter, then I welcome you to the quest, and bid you the best of fortune on your journey.