Yesterday a woman told me about the way she raised her sons in Castle Valley. There was no electricity or running water. The two boys spent a lot of their time chasing after 20 goats the family owned and herded. The boys made up their own language, which they didn’t share with their parents. They created intricate toys made from the rocky high desert ground.
One day, a family friend came to visit. He saw that the boys didn’t have toys, and he took pity on them. After his visit, the man went home and gathered toys from his childhood into baskets, which he brought to the Castle Valley homestead. The boys were excited to receive Tonka trucks, green army guys and yo-yos. The man’s visit was fulfilling. He felt proud of his good deed, and all of the blessings of being one who gives.
Later that day, the woman heard her sons angrily saying “mine” to one another. It was a word that hadn’t used before, and it was the first time they spoke to each other in conflict.
2 thoughts on “Castle Valley Parable”
reminds me of my early childhood. my brothers and i were very close, supportive, until we started school. then we fought like cats and dogs.
keep writing, friend