Once, there were a simple man, who lived behind a mountain. Every so often, he would traverse this mountain on his way to the village, to sell his produce, and purchase that which he needed, and retire once more, to his abode. Each other day, he would toil in his fields, and harvest that which he had sown. He were simple, and upright. Yet, this man were a peculiar creature, for on his journey to the village, as he walked over the mountain, he would pause, and then take a short period to move some earth, and rocks, such that they would roll down the side of the mountain. This ritual gave way to habit, and by chance, some passerby asked of this man,
“Wherefore do you such a ritual? Do not the toils of carting your produce, and sowing your crops, and harvesting that which you sow, suffice?”
The man respondeth: “To sell my crops in the village, I must traverse this mountain, for mine abode lies on one side, and the village on the other, and there were other mountains adjacent, such that this were the path of least resistance. Yet, it were still a long journey. Thus, I have resolved to move this mountain, little by little, and it is right to do so, for it causeth me and my family much suffering.”
Such response brought much mirth to the passerby, who thought the man had lost his sanity. Such a story soon spread to the village, and the man became a target of jest, and humiliation. It were then asked of the man,
“Know you not the greatness of this mountain? It were many times greater than you, and that which you move each day were not even a scratch upon the surface, not visible to aught who may see. Know you that you could never move such a mountain in your lifetime?”
Yet the man heeded not this warning, but responded, simply,
“It were great indeed, yet, if I should perish before it were gone, my children should do the same, and their children also, until the mountain were gone, and the path to the village one of lesser hardship. I cannot cease, for I can see only good come of this.”
Such a response brought more laughter to those of the village. Yet, the man persisted, and still had not made but a scratch on the surface of the mountain. It came to pass that this story died down in the village, and those who knew him, accepted his habit. Yet, the Moon Goddess shone upon him, and smiled, and took note of his virtue. She beseech’d the land to move for him, and, it did, and one day, the mountain was there, and the next, it were not; in its place, a flat plain. And the man were happy indeed, and remained so, for the rest of his days.
Such was a man of virtue.
The day of the Children of the Eclipse draws close. We stand ready for the passing of day-time, for the tranquility of the night-time. May it be that you, like the Moon, should bring light to those in darkness, and through you, may great things be done.