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Jan 19, 2009 - 09:13 PM |
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The Worth of Worthlessness |
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Long ago, in an age long since gone, there lived a logger in the mountains. He made his living by providing wood for the local craftsman, or by selling the wood to families who would use it to heat their homes when winter came. One day the logger decided to go deep into the forests of the mountain to see what he could find. So he packed himself his provisions, he took a sleeping roll, and he hefted his trusty axe and walked.
He walked over hills, pulling tasty saplings as he traveled to chew on as he continued his journey. He crossed rivers that had yet to have bridges built for travelers to cross safely, and filled his canteen to the brim to quench his thirst. He spotted trees that would make good lumber with which to build. He spotted trees that would make good furniture under the hands of the skilled craftsman. He spotted trees that would make good kindling to warm houses during those cold winter nights.
Finally, exhausted from the long journey, the logger came to a large plateau, with a lake from which the rivers fed. And near where the lake became a river, near a large flat area, from a distance stood the most majestic tree the logger had ever seen. Its branches and leaves stretched far and wide, providing shade and cover to all who would seek it from the beating sun or the pouring rain, with enough room under it to comfort dozens of weary travelers in need of relief. Within its branches a multitude of creatures made their homes, and a multitude of flowers and grasses found respite not far from the trees base.
Refilling his canteen, the logger walked towards the serene sight before him. As he walked closer though, he could see the whole of the tree was knotted from its broad base all the way up toward its towering heights. “Hmm, no craftsman would take this tree,” the logger said, and as it sat near the lake, it would be too wet to cure for use, and too heavy to haul back. Taking a seat, the logger reached out and pulled a branch filled with green leavestowards him, snapping some of them off and placing them into his mouth to chew on. However, not even an acquired taste could change the putrid taste the leaves held.
Spitting it out in disgust, the logger scowled at the tree and said, "No wonder this tree has lived so long to grow so large. It's utterly worthless!"
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