A Parable Told for Mother’s 70th birthday Page 3 The storm howled around the high icy mountain ranges. It pushed the fog down into the valleys, where people live. On the heights, snow fell endlessly. The hiker strode alone through the  uncanny solitude. The more horribly the winds whistled around edges in the rock, the more firmly he placed his Alpenstock into the snowy path. He strove upward. The hiker was a hunter. He had already killed with his bow every kind of animal from the valleys and hills. There was only one animal he’d never seen before no matter how often he went out, and he was out in the wild weather to hunt it. The golden chamois lived in the highest heights. Whosoever wets his lips with its blood becomes the wisest of men. He recognizes good and evil and sees the truth unveiled. But the hunter was a discontented man. The still and blunt life at lower altitudes   Page 4 was not enough for him, the impossible spurred him on: therefore he climbed higher and higher through the blizzard, disregarding the icy pellets the wind dusted against his face, the lightning bolts and the crashing thunder. “Stop, you insolent intruder”, called an awful voice from the heights around which the snow clouds flapped like enormous wings, “Stop! This is not a place for humans, not a human kingdom!” The hiker halted a moment and put a hand to his heart. But it was only a moment, and he resumed his climb. And the voice called out again, “Stop! Because if you don’t turn back, I shall have to appear, and looking at me is fatal to humans”. There was no return. The abyss loomed beneath him, and the peak seemed nearby. “I don’t want to!” he called. “If it must be so, then annihilate me with your visage! Then the last thing I see will be the most the most exalted I’ve ever seen!” Thereupon lightning struck the ice-covered peak and all the peaks and space trembled in thunderous resonance. And then it was still. Clear heavenly blue quickly penetrated the mists and blowing snow, the storm was silent, and a few lights from the setting sun reflected from the smooth cold surfaces. Page 5 “You’re bolder than your brother”, the Spirit of the Mountains said, suddenly standing before the hunter. “I don’t want to kill you. But you can’t come any further. Turn around. What you wish to see is not possible for human eyes to encompass. Turn around. The valley is the place that was made for you”. “Are you real or a fantasy?” asked the climber, as he paused in mid-step. “What is your name?” “I have no name”, said the spirit. “In the realm I rule, names have no sense”. Decide, Mortal, turn around and search for that which is suited to you. As you are bolder than the others, and as you hold your life cheaply, should you glimpse truth,  I will grant you three wishes: they will be granted when and where you express them. Take the gift with you back to the valley, perhaps they will bless you and yours. Now turn around, it’s time“. ”If you are as might as you claim“, exclaimed the hunter, ”if you are so wise that you permit yourself to give me, a man, ruler of the earth, lessons and gifts, then prove your might to me: I will speak the first of the wishes here and now. What is it that is most important for me to do right now? The answer to this question is the intent of my first wish! Answer me“. Page 6 The spirit looked calmly at him a while. Then he said slowly and with meaning, ”You know it yourself now“… The hunter put a hand over his heart again. This time it beat even faster than before. A voice whose sound he had not heard for a long time, which he had almost forgotten, awoke there and called to him like in tones which enchanted him like a long-ago childhood melody. ”I shall turn back“, he said calmly. ”Spirit, you’re right. It’s been too long since I’ve seen my mother…. Good-bye“. And he quickly turned and headed down. ”Not so fast!“ said the spirit. ”I want to accompany you. You might still need me. You seem very bold to me. It’s harder to be good than to be bold. Maybe I can help you be good. I have no form, but can assume any form. I will accompany you as a friend“. Thereupon the spirit became a friendly old man. He took the hunter in his coat, and so they silently floated into the valley where people live. 2. They walked side by side: the old man and the young one. It was summer on the plains. Meadows and fields were beautiful in their ripeness, and the birds lent joy to the warm sunny air. Page 7 The hunter walked deep in thought. Everything that had filled his mind was as if swept away by the wind. Game and hunt – strong desire – great longing – the stark image of the high mountains – how far away it all seemed. In his mind was the image of his elderly mother, and unusual thoughts came and went. How complicated things seemed, which had only recently seemed simple. ”My mother“, he thought, ”Do I even know her? What is she really like? – I’ve stormed through half a human lifetime, I’m almost graying myself. I’ve wanted much, considered much to be important: and then that old man next to me comes up, calls up my mother’s image, and see: I’m transformed inside. Had I forgotten the most important thing?“ He looked at the old man. He, who walked serenely beside him, looked at him, too, then, and the hunter saw a pair of extraordinary eyes, from which great wisdom and mild humor streamed. He felt trust in the old man. ”Tell me, Wise One“, he said, ”isn’t it extraordinary that we humans know the least about those whom we love most? There we continue to live in dull, warm childhood, and don’t think about our mothers, who stand in our lives like the sun. She just shines, isn’t that self-evident? Page 8 We grow up and go out to hunt. Everyone seeks his prize. And we forget our mothers. Years later, we return home, looking for her. But now she’s old – and we don’t understand her again… Tell me, Old One, can you tell me something about my mother?“ ”You know that yourself, better than you think“, said the old man. ”But you can’t find the right words. Ask me, I’ll answer“. The hunter thought about it. Then he said, ”My mother, it seems to me now, must be different from most people. I see her before me. She sits among her friends and says little. Then someone says something to which she responds. Then she falls silent again. Then suddenly she speaks again, astonishing the others. Because she hasn’t heard a single thing since that word, this one remained in her soul, and, it would appear, dug itself in deeper and deeper, it became a Gestalt, and this Gestalt went after her soul, to grasp it. Therefore, the soul heard no more. Isn’t that so?“ ”That’s so“, said the old one, ”and whose soul is like that, is called absent-minded by the others. But they should call them turned inward. Poets have such souls“. ”I feel that you’re right“, said the hunter. ”And now I’ve just recalled things that I’ve never page 9 understood. Suddenly it’s clear. Yes, she’s really convinced that the violets at home do have a sweeter scent than anywhere else, that only the chestnuts there have such broad, shiny leaves. She’s always dreaming of her home – her entire life was a dream of her youth, yes, now I see it clearly – her whole life was only one long childhood, she’s remained young in her heart, through the power of her imagination“. He was silent a while, then he said, lively, ”Spirit, if you have a power greater than that granted to us humans, so take me to her home town. If I see it, if I walk its streets, maybe I’ll understand my mother. Spirit, take me to Ober-Glogau!“ 3. ”There it is, just ahead“, said the Spirit. There it was before them. The still summer wind breathed over the fields, the masses of heavy ears swayed slightly. This plain was very fruitful. The sugar beets, the wheat, the grass – nothing grew better than it did here. The ground rose gently from the river bank, on its back lay the little city, overlooked by the old castle. ”Peaceful blessed spot! I feel that you page 10 formed and nourished my mother’s young soul. I greet you!“ said the hunter. Now they strode through the gate and then they came to the market square with the old town hall. They went down the old street and passed the house in which greatgrandfather had lived. The corner window had been his. Upstairs was the best room, whose door was always closed. They exited through the city gate. There lay the brewery. Here grandfather had lived for forty years. Here Mother was born. And there was the castle, too. The chestnuts spread their antique branches over the old, crumbling, moldy wall, and at the gate sat the old retainer, as he’d sat the past 50 years, as if to await Mother’s return. ”I’m her son“, said the hunter. But the old retainer was not surprised. Time seemed to have stood still for him: thus the successions of generations could not surprise him. And now they went to the parish church. If you look over the wall, the river lies before you in its broad flatness, and not far from it you can see the cloister of the devout women. ”There“, said the old one, ”on those meadows, she went as a girl. Behind them is an inn. She danced there“. It was all there, as if it had been preserved under glass, and as if an angel had come Page 11 from God every Sunday, lifted up the glass, dusted carefully, and then covered everything up again. A great peace spread over everything… ”Spirit“, called the hunter. ”Didn’t you grant me three wishes?“ ”So it is“, said the old man. ”And I have two of them left?“ ”Surely“, said the old man. ”But use them well. Wishing is easy, doing without, difficult“, during which he looked at the hunter with his unusual gaze, in which great wisdom mixed with gentle humor. ”So think before you speak“. ”Nothing to consider“, exclaimed the hunter. ”What’s there to think about? Mother is 70 years old. She’s not coming back here. But I’m returning home with empty hands. Spirit, hear my second wish: I want to make her a present of Ober-Glogau! I want to take it back to her! Pack it up and let’s go!“ 4. Tap, tap. There stood an enormous giant in place of the old man. Her held a spade. ”Come on“, he growled, ”We’re going to lift the whole nest carefully“. They strode out the gate and walked Page 12 Almost to where the village Leobschutz stands. ”I think“, said the giant, ”it’s best done from about here“. No sooner said than done. One, two, three, four. The whole thing had been spaded around with the spade, the way one lifts a section of sod. ”So, now we’ll carefully lift it out“, said the giant. ”But wait! What are we going to put it into?“ ”Don’t you want to use this box?“ asked the hunter. ”It’s just lying around uselessly on the meadow and seems to be empty“. ”Let’s see if it’s still good“, said the giant. He picked it up. It was a brown box made of heavy cardboard. At the corners it had tin clamps, to hold it together better. ”There was gingerbread in it“, called the hunter. ”See, the baker’s name is on it. ‘Knieling’. He bakes the sweetest honey cake in the whole country. But there’s nothing more inside it, the box was thrown out. Take it & put the whole thing in it carefully“. One, two, three. The whole story was packed inside. It all fit, except that the castle tower stood up over the top of the box a bit. ”Should I break it off?“ asked the giant. ”Seems to me, it needs repair anyway“. Page 13 ”No, no, for God’s sake!“ called the hunter, frightened. ”Nothing can be changed in Ober-Glogau. We’ll have to keep the cover at an angle. That’ll work“. ”As you wish“, said the giant. ”But it will slow us down“. 5. Now they slowly walked north, as the mother lived to the north, and they had to march for several days. The giant seemed to find the burden he bore on his back extremely heavy. Every few minutes, he stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow. He wanted to rest at every bend in the road. But he showed no sign of impatience and seemed to accept having to make a long hike. But the hunter was driven toward home with increasing strength, and his companion’s slowness gradually drove him to desperation. ”What’s with him?“ he thought. Is this my friend from the mountain, who was so friendly, who seemed so good to me? Or did he take off and leave me with this guy? – I still have one wish left. Should I really use it for this?  We’d be home in an instant and I’d be rid Page 14 of this incredible impatience and this big bloke, too! – Oh, no, better not! Who knows if I was already stupid, throwing away the second wish like this. I want to be more careful with the third”. And he looked secretly at the giant from the side. How friendly and talkative the old man had been! This guy just plodded on silently and lethargically. Was this still the same spirit as yesterday? The giant seemed to have guessed the hunter’s thoughts. He turned his head toward him, as if by chance, and looked at  him. They were the well-known eyes! With wisdom and humorous goodness, he rested his glance on the young man. Only they seemed to be more humorous than before, as if they wished to say something special. Yes, it was the mountain spirit who walked beside him!  But why this unusual demeanor, this mislike, this hesitancy? And so it turned evening, and an extraordinary tiredness overcame the hunter. He sat down at the edge of a great field and, no sooner had he sat down, he fell into a deep sleep, in which he had an unusual dream. He dreamed he saw a huge ladder standing on the ground, reaching toward the gate of Heaven. Endless crowds of people climbed slowly up its rungs. It was a quiet, expectant crowd,  hope and doubt lay Page 15 Alternately on the upward turned faces. But St. Peter stood at the top, keeper of the entry to Heaven. Many he gave a friendly wave onward, many he directed downward: they slowly sank down. And just then a woman stood before him. “What good did she do?” asked a voice. “What deeds, what acts does she have to show?” There was a quiet, because no one knew anything about this woman, no one knew her. She lived such a quiet, inward life, had never much concerned herself with others. And therefore no one knew about her, and good advice came dearly. “What has she to her credit?” asked the gatekeeper again, “I must know, because with no credit, I can let no one in”. … There called out a great voice, “Let her in! Don’t you see the halo around her head? She was a mother!” The Gates of Heaven blew open with resounding blasts, and the angels bowed to the mother. .. The hunter awoke and noticed that day was dawning. He felt anxious. For the dream, with its mix of exaltation and sorrow depressed him more than it elevated him. He felt a Page 16 deep unrest. “Up! Toward Mother!” he called. “Too long have I hesitated, too long have I loitered abroad, too long I’ve thought about unimportant matters and neglected those dearest to me!” He sprang to his feet and rubbed his eyes. But what was that? Where was the giant? He’d vanished! But the box was still there. Thank God! “Woe is me!” cried the hunter. “Did a kobold get the best of me? Now he’s left me here in the middle of nowhere with this heavy box! What should I do?” The cover of the box had slid off. He looked in side. Oh horror! It was empty. But wasn’t there a piece of paper on the ground next to it? The morning breeze was playing with it, as if it wanted to tease the hunter. He picked up the piece of paper and read, astonished, “Idiot! Learn to wish, it’s harder than you think!  You seek in vain to move Ober-Glogau from it’s place,  it’s there, where it’s supposed to be”. That tore it. The note’s ambiguous words were too annoying, and the weird dream oppressed his soul on top of it. He exclaimed decisively, “If I don’t know how to wish, as you claim, mighty Spirit, then I’ll throw the third wish away too, Page 17 like a superfluous load! I want to be human, no more. Take me to my mother’s arms immediately”. 6. There sat his mother. Her loved ones surrounded her. Because it was her birthday, and her 70th, yet. There was joy on every face. The angels especially crowded round close, and Grandmother’s face shone with contentment. In her hand she held a bouquet of violets. The son entered. He ran toward her with a sigh of joy and buried his face in her lap. “Mother!” he exclaimed, “I come with a full heart, but empty hands. I bagged nothing outdoors. I wanted to bring you Ober-Glogau, but an evil sorcerer led me around by the nose and took everything away. Forgive me!”. His mother chuckled, and pointed to his grandfather, the children and grandchildren and said, “You’re simple, son. Look around and see how I’m surrounded by love in every direction. Know: I don’t need Ober-Glogau. Anywhere you’re loved, it’s Ober-Glogau!” “But the violets?” asked her still incredulous son. “I could at least have brought you a few! page 18 They smell so nice!” “The violets”, said his mother, “smell the best, where one is happy”. And they all cried for the joy of it all, and the hunter was happy that there was nothing more to wish for.