The Prayer

Long ago, a man decided to remove himself from the world of men in order to dedicate himself wholly to the worship of his God. He traveled to the farthest countries across the widest seas and built himself a cottage atop the highest mountain. Then, he settled himself for prayer.

He had only just settled his mind to worship, when he heard a scratching at his door. At first he was annoyed, thinking that someone had followed him to his mountain refuge, but when he opened the door, he found only a small lynx whose leg had been crushed by a rock.

"Well," the man said to himself, "there is plenty of time for prayer. I will not turn away anyone seeking my help." He carefully tended the lynx, washing the cuts and scrapes and setting the leg. For a whole month he tended to the lynx's every need while its leg healed. Then one day, the cast came off and the lynx ran off down the side of the mountain.

The man sighed happily and settled himself for prayer. He had not been at it for five minutes when he heard a noise at his window. He ignored it for several minutes, but when it continued he strode purposefully to the window and flung it open. There on the sill was a little wren with a broken wing.

"Well," the man said to himself, "there is plenty of time for prayer. I will not turn away anyone seeking my help." Just like the lynx, the man brought the wren inside, cared for its wounds, saw to its health, and set it free.

Day after day, month after month, year after year, the man lived on top of his mountain, but each time he would begin to pray another injured animal would find its way to his door. Each time, he would welcome the animal into his home and into his heart.

The man grew old, as man will, and eventually died. So much of his time had been spent caring for the animals, that in all of his years living on top of the mountain, only a few precious hours had been spent in prayer. Upon dying, the man found himself outside of a great palace. Through the window he could see a figure that was somehow both terrifyingly unknowable and comfortingly familiar.

The figure was concentrating deeply on something, but the man could not understand the words and symbols that the figure wrote. This work, the man knew, was of supreme importance. This work mattered more than anything that had ever been done or would ever be done. Deciding not to bother this great figure from its great work, the man looked around for some other shelter to protect him from the elements.

The figure paused and looked at the man, then strode to the great gate of the palace. "Come in," the figure said "I will not turn away anyone seeking my help."