The Bridge Builder
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 had no fears for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.
"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim, near,
"You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way;
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide
-Why build you a bridge at the eventide?"
The builder lifted his old gray head:
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"There followeth after me today,
A youth, whose feet must pass this way.
This 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 am building the bridge for him."
(from storybin.com)
1 comment:
Thomas Monson was inspired by this poem as he spoke about service in a past issue of the Ensign Magazine. It makes me think of teachers, good teachers and bad ones. Are people going to be willing to trust our efforts enough to use the bridge we build for them? Would we allow those we love to cross the bridges we've constructed? Are we even building them or are we just so focused on ourselves and our own quest that we go far in life and end up alone?
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