.....the boy was tenacious ,capable,and better than most at accomplishing anything that he put his mind to. He had no need to hold what he made for himself, though, and so he was not greedy. He shared all he had willingly, but always loved the ability to be seen for what it was he could do. "Thank you" was all he needed to hear and "thank you" was something that was never in short supply from those who received from him.
He was in love with a beautiful peasant girl, and while there were plenty of girls who would jump at the chance to be with him, he wished only to spend his time nearer to her. What she needed of him did not come from what he could give her, but from what she received by being near him. And while she never had a need of others, either,she did have the need him to be near him more than anyone else. Not for what he could do for her, but for what he would do if she so much as asked. Because of this, however, she never did. She wasn't incapable of doing anything for herself, either, but enjoyed what he could accomplish. But her love for him was all she ever needed.The boy knew this, and spent as much time with her as he could but always wanted to give her the very best of him.
His mother and father had left two years before to find work and left him in the care of a kindly uncle. The mother and father never returned, and then the uncle died as well, leaving the boy alone. He was strong and capable, though, and rather than turn him out as an orphan, he worked long enough to be able to care for the small modest farm house by himself until he was of age to claim it for himself. The village admired the boy for his tenacity and saw no reason to not offer what was rightfully his.
It came to pass that a woman came into the village one Fall claiming she needed lodging to stay in over the winter. Her wretched husband had turned her out to fend for herself and came to the only place she knew she had family. She introduced herself as the farm boys aunt. The boy had never seen the woman before, but she could describe his kindly uncle well enough to convince the village that she should live with the farm boy over the Winter.
She was kindly and charming in her own way that seemed to completely allay any suspicions of the village that they may have had about her, but the boy was not so sure. He didn't like the way she looked at him and smiled; Like she knew something he did not and that the smile seemed to operate to serve two completely different functions depending on who she looked at. She was, nevertheless, his Aunt, and he treated her respectfully at all times. She explained that she was fully capable of being on her own but longed for company, and that family was, indeed, the best of company to be had if there was any at all.
The village on the whole, pitied a woman alone, and they knew the farm boy would do nothing less than exactly what they assumed he would. He brought her in to the farm house and she worked alongside the others. Not better to make her an asset, but no less to make her a liability either. Just enough to get by. Every day she did her share just like everyone else, but only as much as was needed to provide for herself. In a very short time, the old woman and the boy were seen as a single unit providing for the village, but to the boy,she seemed to actively remain as close as she could to him and what he provided while never feeling the need to explain to the rest of the village that he had accomplished where she had not.
She was,however, a very clever and cunning woman, and never gave the boy the recognition he needed or deserved for what he did. If he went hunting, he would bring back three rabbits where others had only caught one. She would take the rabbits he offered her and say quite plainly, "It's too bad you weren't good enough to catch four". When the men and boys stacked the hay in the barns, he would be able to load ten bales more than the others. Again, she would be no less thankful to the others who performed work for her, but quietly reserved the right to mention to him secretly "Its too bad you aren't strong enough to load fifteen". Always it was more than could be accomplished by any of the others, but far less in the eyes of the old woman.
The entire winter passed and every day, the same thing happened. While the rest of the village praised the boy for his hard work and abilities, the old woman quietly tore him down with small offhanded and snide comments. Soon it was all the boy could think of. He no longer worked for the recognition of those who adored him for it, but concentrated his efforts solely on the good word of the old woman from whom it never came and who cared little either way. It became a game, and it was a game he despised being forced to play, but also one that he would not lose. Very few occasions ever presented themselves to him that allowed him to voice his opinion, but even when he did, he found himself seriously outmatched.
"Why is a 'thank you' so hard for you to give me?" he mentioned to her on one particularly cold morning after spending hours catching fish under the ice. "Isn't anything I do even worth a simple 'thank you"?"
The woman didn't even look up as she to cleaned the fish.
"Why should I say thank you for something you were going to do anyway?"
The boy was surprised but continued unabated.
"Because if I hadn't done it there wouldn't have been any fish at all."
"How many fish did you plan on catching?" she asked casually.
"I planned on catching three fish. Which, by the way, you happen to be cleaning three of"
The woman seemed to know exactly where this whole conversation was leading without ever having to leave the cutting board, and it pleased her to no end watch him work and squirm so hard for what she knew would be ruined by having him asking for it at all.
"And you mean to tell me that because you caught three fish I should say 'thank you'? Tell me, boy, what were you out there fishing for? Compliments, or fish?"
"I was fishing for fish."
She paused and eyed him with cool indifference before she continued.Like a lion circling prey. She knew exactly what a 'thank you' meant, especially to him, but that did not mean that she was going to give him what he needed if it could be made to have him feel greedy by the asking of it. This was the best part of the game;knowing all of the rules and making everyone else abide by them by default, except for her.
"A 'thank you' is given to a person who has gone out of their way to offer a generosity to another. You planned on catching three fish. And so you have. But that is all you were going to do in the first place. Tell me why I should give undue thanks for what you did, by not going out of your way to exceed?"
The boy was baffled. He was not prone to a loss of words for anything or by anyone, but this woman had him feeling as though there wasn't a single place he could put his foot that wasn't going to result in a broken ankle.
"No that's not what I meant....I mean, No, I mean...Because I deserve a 'thank you' from time to time."
"For not going any farther out of your way than you were going to go by yourself anyway?"
The boy left the farm house and trudged back out into the snow to try and collect his thoughts. The old woman continued to clean, and then cook the fish he caught. When he returned, he found that only small bits remained floating in the bottom of the cold pan. Without even looking up, the old woman could feel him looking at her in disbelief. She answered in the best way she could to deny both a meal and a 'thank you'.
"It's too bad you weren't good enough to catch four...but you knew that."
The girl who loved him still watched him every day, but from farther away than she once had. He had responsibilities, and she was not about to have him choose one over the other. She still cherished every moment she could spend with him and took great efforts to make herself as attractive to him as she felt around him. She always too the time to ensure that she had her hair combed and brushed and with the very finest ribbon she could find to put in her hair for him. He loved her hair and was forever running his fingers through it when he held her in the meadow last Spring.
The boy was no less aware of the young girl than he had ever been before. He still wished to give the girl everything that he could be, but measured it against what the old woman said and expected him to accomplish first. Not The young girl he loved. But he still wanted her to see him as the very best he could be under any circumstance. If he was not the best, than the best was not what he was going to show her. He set about a plan to give her something that he would do for her to show her that he really did admire her. Something that would outshine everything else. He decided to give her something that showed he noticed the efforts she put into herself to please him,but something that also showed how much it meant to him to know it.
It was no surprise to any of the other villagers that the farm boy loved her most of all, and late at night he confided the secret to his friends that he wished to give the beautiful farm girl something special for her hair. He did not know what quite yet, but it had to be special. Very special.
Spring came, and when he thought the old woman would leave the village, she surprised him by saying that she would remain. Day after day he did as he always had for the village and day after day he received the praise from everyone but her. He finally exploded in one great outburst that was completely unlike the boy. It was no small mystery that the boy lived for the pride and recognition of others, but when he suddenly lashed out with a fury and rage at being refused by the old woman, it surprised even the most hardened of the villagers. The outburst was well and truly deserved, but because no other villager had seen or heard what she had said to the boy, they all seemed baffled by his sudden change in behavior. The old woman simply stared at him as though she was just as surprised. This enraged the farm boy who attempted to explain in exasperated sentences what the old woman had said and done for months. But the villagers had seen none of it. All they saw was a boy who obviously had an overdeveloped sense of pride and was now exacting from one old woman a full payment. The old woman made no response at all and no defense for her actions. It was the most clever thing she had ever done. say nothing in her defense, and make her supposed inability to do so, be all the proof the village needed for the suspicion of guilt to fall to the farm boy.
The farm boy stomped off in fury and left the old woman standing in the center of the village green. She looked up with pitying eyes and said to the villagers, "And then he just leaves me here, alone." She slowly turned to walk towards the farmhouse leaving the villagers to ponder the idea that the once kindly farm boy had not only ruined his reputation in the village for yelling at a poor defenseless woman, but reinforced it by having her walk home alone. The old woman shrugged her shoulders and lifted the hood of her shawl, but inside of that cowl, she smiled.
When she entered the farm house the boy was still pacing back and forth in an absolute froth of anger and hurt.The boy raised his voice and loudly claimed that there was nothing he couldn't do better and that the only fault he had was that he wasn't capable of doing enough for her to be appeased. The old woman remained as impassive as ever. Gossip had spread, however, during the long cold winter nights and the old woman knew what he planned for the girl that he loved.
The woman simply scoffed at his outburst but made a wager with the boy. She told him that the only reason he accomplished the things that he did was that he never did anything that was hard for him to do. If he could prove to her that he could do something the others could NOT, though, then she would be more than happy to tell both he, and the village, that he was, indeed, everything he claimed to be.
"What is it that you want me to show you I can do? the boy said.
"Pull this chain through the trunk of the oak in the center of the village"
The boy seemed a little surprised at the expectation. As though the absurdity of it in some way invalidated her claim.
"How is something as pointless as pulling a chain through a tree going to show what I can do? It's an absolute waste of time."
But the woman knew exactly what she was doing and how she could get the boy to do exactly what he wanted him to do. She took the one thing he needed, and used it.
"Well, if you can't do it, or it's just too hard for you to do..." she replied plainly, letting the rest of the statement be finished by him in an way he so chose.
The farm boy, proud as ever, and determined to prove her wrong,accepted the wager. The following morning old woman tied a chain around an oak tree and insulted him once again by saying he was not enough of a man to pull the oak tree over with it. If he did, however, she would reward him with her most prized possessions. It was a gold and silver hair brush and comb and a woven hair ribbon made completely of spun gold. The boy knew instantly who he would give it to. The woman swore they would be his to have on only one condition, and that was that he never tell anyone why he did the task she demanded or what the prize would be. The boy gladly accepting knowing that upon completion he would get both vindication from the village for the accomplishment and the prize for his love.
The following morning the villagers woke to find the boy with a length of chain wrapped around his waist and then around the oak tree in the center of the village. It was still early but already beads of sweat poured from his brow as he leaned against the chain and dug his feet into the dirt to haul against the trunk of the tree.
The village elders came to him and asked him what he was doing. He remembered what the old woman had said and he simply replied "What I have to do".
For awhile, it was a curiosity and it brought the attention of everyone. Most sat on the stoops of their houses finding his behavior completely pointless but fully expecting this young man to pull the tree over by noon. But the first day ended and late into the night he pulled and tugged. When the lanterns were lit for the night he unchained himself and went to bed, too exhausted to do anything else. He did not notice the young woman against the railing of the fence who had watched him all day long. When he left, so did she. She lifted the lantern from the post of the fence and turned away into the night.
The following morning, the villagers again found the young man chained to the tree. They thought that perhaps today would be the day, but it was Spring, and fields needed to be tilled and planted. He explained that he would love to till and plow with the rest of the village, but that this was something he had to do. They shrugged their shoulders and left him to his labor. The old woman smiled darkly as she walked to the fields with the others, but knew he would not stop pulling at the tree. And the young girl, continued to watch from the fence.
Day after day he pulled at the tree. Finally, the young girl came to him and asked him what he was doing? He replied that he could not tell her why he was doing it. He said he loved her dearly but that he had a plan and she needed to trust him. That was enough for the young girl. She touched his head and wiped the sweat from it, saying she believed in him. She brought him water during the day, and late at night she often brought him a cloak. It was the only time she had with him since he began this labor, but still she would not leave. She never asked why he would need to do this, but always told him he wished he would not and believed in him regardless. She would leave him, but she never went far. Every day he was there, so was she.
Seasons came and went and every day the boy pulled. The chain had bit deep into the trunk of the tree, though, and the only thing he would say when he was occasionally asked if he was done was "One more day". The villagers finally conceded that he was no longer useful to the rest of the village, but that he had provided enough in his time to earn the right to do what he felt was important. Day after day he worked, day after day the young girl watched and waited, and day after day the old woman simply smiled and ignored what he did.
Years passed until the young man was a strong and powerful fully grown man. Those were the years that the chain looked as though it would break before the man ever did. Giant muscles rippled and flexed as he hauled on the taught chain and it sunk deeper and deeper into the meat of the tree. "One more day" he continued to chant until it became almost the only thing he would say at all.
The village continued on with its own labors and responsibilities until the man was nothing more than an oddity. No longer did people know him and refer to him in other villages as the gracious boy who shared everything he had. People still came to see him, but with his old life now dwindled into the past, he was simply known as "that man chained to the tree".
Year after year passed. He had always been a very youthful looking man, and hard work did not take from it, but years passed nonetheless. Year after year after year.
Babies were born to the village, children were raised, marriages continued to be made to other villagers, and those who died were buried to have their places taken by their children who bore children of their own.And still he pulled against the chain.
Finally, one crisp Fall morning there was a loud and resounding crack. The man had pulled the chain completely through the trunk of the tree. He tumbled to the ground as the villagers poured from their homes to see what the sound was. While they had not forgotten that a man had spent his life pulling a chain against a tree, they had forgotten why he did it completely and that he may indeed accomplish it one day.
The massive tree lay toppled in the center of the square. The great trunk, sawed completely in half by the giant chain, bore huge gashes and scars. The chain itself had been polished to a bright silver in the places where it raked back and forth over the hard dense wood. As the man stood up and removed the chain from his shoulders and back, the old woman came from her house. She said nothing as she approached, but her face was a mean and wretched smile. The man was used to seeing this though, and raised himself to his full height as he looked down at her preparing to speak to her and finally receive his rewards. Both the spun gold sash, the comb and brush of silver and gold and the recognition he deserved.
The old woman simply looked at him and smugly told him that apparently she was wrong about him and that he truly was as capable of doing anything he put his mind to. She then turned to the rest of the village and stated clearly what the villagers already knew. She turned and looked at him as though to confirm to him that she had lived up to her end of the pointless condition of their bargain.
She reached inside of her cloak and pulled the sash from it. It was as though she had pulled the sun from her pocket and there wasn't a spot on it that didn't gleam like the sun. The villagers stared in awe at the amazing woven cloth. The man said no more and took the sash. The old woman said nothing either as she walked away. The villagers knew nothing of the rest of the story and she wasn't about to tell them either.
The man took the sash and carefully walked on wobbly legs that had grown accustomed to pulling and not walking. But soon, he was striding quickly, and then running to present the sash to his beloved young girl he loved so much. He truly believed that this was what she would want most of all.
When he arrived at her farmhouse he knocked on the door. A small and frail woman dressed in i cloak with a cowl answered the door. He had never seen the woman before but asked if he could please speak with the young woman who she lived with. The woman asked what she wanted with her as she is not accustomed to having strange men come calling without notice.
The man explained that he was the man who was in the square who had been pulling the chain through the tree. The tree, he proudly stated, had been felled with the strength of a single man and a chain and that as his prize he was given a golden sash and that he wished to give it to the young girl.
The old woman asked to see the sash and he gladly unwrapped it. Again the sash blazed brilliantly in the sun. He explained that he wished to give it to the girl to put into her hair so that all the world could see how happy she made him and what he would give to the woman he loved. The woman began to weep.
"What is a young girl going to do with a golden sash presented to her from an old man?"
The man was taken aback a bit and seemed surprised that she would call him old, but as he looked down at his hands holding the sash he was surprised to see the hands of an old man and not the strong youthful muscles of youth. It didn't matter though. He still loved her and she would still love him because of what he had done for her.
The small frail woman held the sash in her crippled and gnarled fingers as she spoke.
"Why would you give something like this to such an insignificant sprout of girl?"
The man beamed proudly and told the woman that he wanted to give her something that she needed and that she could be proud of having. That she was worth what it took to give it to her and that she deserved it.
"And you thought that this was what she needed?" she said, as she held the sash as though it had become as irrelevant as a stone in a soup pot.
The man looked confused but answered with the only thing he could understand.
"Yes" he replied plainly.
The woman invited him in as she shook her head in disbelief and led him to a small wooden table. She offered him tea as she sat down slowly and carefully across the table from him while she continued to talk to him.
"I've spoken to that young girl about you and about this very thing every single night since you began pulling on that tree. Did you notice her out there? She would sit against the fence and wait for you, and then late at night she would come home and we would talk about how she wished you would stop. What it is that she needed did not come from what you would gain from pulling a chain through a tree. And how could she? She was only aware of what you did, but not why. You believed that what she needed came from what would be achieved by proving you were strong enough to pull a chain through the tree, and yet what she really needed was merely to know that the man she adored would. What that young girl needed was not the chain, or the tree, or the comb or the brush or the sash of spun gold. She needed the one thing that did all of the work but neglected to see who it was asked from. She merely needed the man."
"Foolish old man" she whispered quietly. And then she began to weep.
The man felt a great sadness for the woman who sat crying in front of him, but had no idea what to do to help her.
"Can I see her?" he asked as carefully as he could.
"Of course you can see her" she said.
And with that, she removed the cowl of her cloak and let what was left of her thin, and graying hair spill from her head. He did not recognize her at first. But as soon as she looked at him with those green eyes he suddenly realized who she was. Before he could say anything the woman burned into him with bright green eyes, but all that came from her mouth was love.
"The tree did not give you pride. You had that already. You simply refused to see it from those who gave it to You thought that by expecting it should be proven to a person who couldn't see it at all. That is, unless you were made to prove it by doing something as useless and wasteful as pulling a chain through a tree. The tree did not give you time. it wasted time by having you spend it pulling a chain through a tree. You did not get to share who you were to me or to anyone else by being strong enough to do it. you wasted that as well, by pulling a chain through a tree. Most of all you expended effort. Effort that was so well applied to those around you and who benefited from it and admired you for it. We all knew the effort was within you, but it was spent pulling a chain through the trunk of a tree. And for what, love? For what? A chain?"
"The second most beautiful thing I have ever seen is upon this table right now, but the most cherished was what was left next to that tree. All you have, my dear sweet love, is a chain. The recognition you were promised by remaining silent and the pride you hoped to have meant nothing to a person who had no need of it, and to have the rest of the village be told of what they knew already took nothing from that old witch at all. It wasn't hers to give or take. It was yours. Even the tree will be cut to firewood by the morrow."
The old woman smiled at him, though, and said "But you still have me. You had me long before you ever attached yourself to a chain, and through all of it I watched from the fence. You always had me."
The old man smiled back and he could finally tell her that he loved her and that she was worth all that he did. She reminded him that she knew he was worth it long before he ever started. They agreed to meet the following morning and that they would spend their lives together and never again look back.
The man went back to his house and for the first time slept soundly and contented. He had finished his labor and could now spend his time with other pursuits and love freely who he wished. He closed his eyes, and dreamed of his beautiful young girl with the spun gold sash. He had not dreamed in so very long.
Late that night the happy old woman with a sash of gold held against her chest, breathed one last time, and passed away.
She was buried beside the fence where she had watched the man pull a chain through a mighty oak. He knelt beside her and combed her hair with the silver and gold combs and brushes and then kissed her. As he wept, his tears fell upon the golden sash that held her thin gray hair. They carried her to her grave, and everyone in the village, those who had spent their lives enjoying her and all she had to offer, wept at her passing.
As he looked out among the people who had spent their lives with her, he noticed the old woman standing in the back of a throng of people. She did not weep. Instead, she did the one thing that made all the accomplishment and burning brightness of pride in the world shrink away to a meaningless speck of ash.
She smiled.
