The Traveler and the Broken Bridge

There was a lone traveler in a place where mountains kissed the sky and rivers sang their way through mountains.   He couldn’t hold back the desire to see what was beyond the distance. His boots and coat were dirty and worn.

 As the sun went down and turned gold and orange, the wanderer came across a wide river.   It had a bridge, or what was left of it, across the rough water.   The wooden structure’s once-sturdy boards were now strewn along the river and lay broken in the middle.  The boards of the once-sturdy wooden building were now scattered downstream and broken in the middle.

 An elderly villager with sagging shoulders and hopeless eyes sat on the far side of the river.  Without the bridge, he had no means of getting to the town on the other side of the valley with his stranded cart of supplies.

 “Why do you sit there in sorrow?” the traveler cried.

 “This bridge served as my lifeline,” the villager moaned.  I constructed it myself, but yesterday night’s storm destroyed it.  My family would go hungry if I don’t sell my items, and I can’t get to the market right now.

 At first, the traveler looked at the moving water, and then at the broken beams.  He needed to determine whether to undertake the repair personally or defer to another individual for the task.

        He subsequently stated, “Let us reconstruct it collaboratively.”

        The residents were immediately astonished.      Yet, a flicker of optimism resided in his weary eyes.       They commenced their task by collecting deceased trees and securing them with rope.       The traveler’s robust hands maneuvered substantial timbers, while the villager’s proficiency ensured the precise placement of each component.

     It proved to be difficult.     The tumultuous torrent surged beneath, drenching their legs and necessitating some effort.But as each board was put in place, the bridge got stronger.   Even though it was very hot and they were sweating, they kept going.

  The bridge was strong enough for both people and carts, and it stood straight again once the last board was attached.   The man rolled his things across safely to see how it worked first.   Then he turned to face the stranger with thanks in his eyes.

  Individual from the town said, “You have given me more than a bridge.”   “I now have a means to support my family once more thanks to you.”

  The tourist smiled.   “And you’ve provided me with a path forward.”

  When he stepped onto the bridge, the wood felt solid.   That which had been a wall was now a way in for him and everyone who would follow.

  While crossing over, the visitor had an epiphany that he would never forget:

  When you help someone recover, you often find new ways to help yourself. “And you’ve provided me with a path forward.”

  When he stepped onto the bridge, the wood felt solid.   That which had been a wall was now a way in for him and everyone who would follow.

  While crossing over, the visitor had an epiphany that he would never forget:

  When you help someone recover, you often find new ways to help yourself.