Tour Reflection

Once upon a time, two brothers lived together in a small house in the windy highlands. The older brother was bookish and bright – the younger, a moderately reputable cobbler from the nearby village. Together they shared both ideas and material goods, and in their cohabitation, shared being with one another, resulting in a satisfying life for each. One stormy autumn evening they heard a rapping upon the door of their house. “Who may it be?” they asked, and the younger brother went to the door to inquire. A strange beggar stood in the threshold, soaked in the rain. “I was wondering if I may come in,” the beggar asked through the closed door, “it is raining and I have many miles to go.” Hesitating momentarily, the brother at the door glanced quickly to the other for affirmation – after a quick nod of the head, the older brother opened the door wide. “Come in, come in,” he said to the beggar, “we don’t have much, but you are welcome to stay for the night. We have hot stew on the stove and cold milk in the cellar. What is ours is yours.”

Their dinner was warm and filling, and they talked little as they ate. Shortly after dining, the brothers showed the beggar to bed for the night, and not seconds after laying to rest he began snoring contentedly. In the kitchen, the brothers lit a lamp and discussed the situation.

“I’ve not much to my name but books,” the older brother said. “But I know that if we share with our guest and allow him to go on his way, he will be better equipped to go into the world and share with others, following our example. It is the act of sharing that is important, not what is shared. if we begin to share as freely as possible, then others may share with us as well, and when the winter comes we will have far more food than necessary to make it through.”

“Though I am a tradesman of some reputation,” the younger brother replied, “my profession provides us just enough to make do. I worry that if we share too much with our guest, we will go hungry when the winter comes. Sharing becomes difficult under the weight of material necessity.

“You underestimate the power of an idea,” said the older brother. “Where did the idea of the shoe come from, the object of your profession? Why is it that our house is built in a particular fashion, or that we dress in the way we do? There is a certain power in ideas. Sowing the seed is the first step to growing a plant.”

“You make a good argument,” said the younger brother, “but how do you expect this idea of sharing to spread? We are products of our conditions, and our condition is one of scarcity. A cobbler cannot expect to become nobility, we don’t have enough land to grow crops, and every other villager is in our same position. How can one expect an idea to weigh more in the minds of our fellow villagers than concern for one’s well-being? What makes an idea popular?”

When the sun rose, the beggar had already gone. While the older brother sat down to his books and papers, the younger brother gathered his tools and set out for his shop in the village center.

The wind whispered through the trees.