A little boy is on his knees scooping and packing the sand with plastic shovels into a bright blue bucket. Then he upends the bucket on the surface and lifts it. And, to the delight of the little architect, a castle tower is created.
All afternoon he will work. Spooning out the moat. Packing the walls. Bottle tops will be sentries. Popsicle sticks will be bridges. A sandcastle will be built.
Big city. Busy streets. Rumbling traffic.
A man is in his office. At his desk he shuffles papers into stacks and delegates assignments. He cradles the phone on his shoulder and punches the keyboard with his fingers. Numbers are juggled and contracts are signed and much to the delight of the man, a profit is made.
All his life he will work. Formulating the plans. Forecasting the future. Annuities will be sentries. Capital gains will be bridges. An empire will be built.
Two builders of two castles. They have much in common. They shape granules into grandeurs. They see nothing and make something. They are diligent and determined. And for both the tide will rise and the end will come.
As the waves near, the wise child jumps to his feet and begins to clap. There is no sorrow. No fear. No regret. He knew this would happen. He is not surprised. And when the great breaker crashes into his castle and his masterpiece is sucked into the sea, he smiles. He smiles, picks up his tools, takes his father's hand, and goes home.
The grownup, however, is not so wise. As the wave of years collapses on his castle he is terrified. He hovers over the sandy monument to protect it. He blocks the waves from the walls he has made. Salt-water soaked and shivering he snarls at the incoming tide.
"It's my castle," he defies.
The ocean need not respond. Both know to whom the sand belongs...
The Sandcastle tells the story of a boy who builds a sandcastle by day, only to see it washed away, and then dreams about the sandcastle at night. In his dream, he awakes and walks down to the beach to discover that the sandcastle has grown to full size in the moonlight, and is now filled with people and merry-making. Yet once again the tide returns, washing away the giant fortress of sand, and turning all of its inhabitants back into mer-people and fishes. In the morning, we find the child back at the beach, building another dream...
Author Unknown
4 comments:
Sir,
Life is like that .Simply explained. Any how a small request. This type of postings (evry week end ,eagerly awaiting to read) ,pl .seperate and postas .blog it so that we can store it in the com or read the blog it often aftewards leasurly. Thanks
sundaribala
Excellent.. i really read yr weekend post with delight.. and also send them 2 my son..thanks
Fantastic eye opener... thanks I will remember this post every time I visit the beach with my children and make castles.. :)
That is a wow post. Cheers!!
Post a Comment