The Gold Coin

In a land far over the horizon there was once a wealthy landowner whose estate stretched far and wide. So great were his lands that it was said a man could begin walking from one end as a boy and not reach the other side until old age and a broken body had consumed him. One day the master of this estate gathered all his slaves around him, telling them that for their years of hard work and diligence tending his fields he had a special surprise for them. He had hidden a collection of treasures throughout his fields that were buried beneath the soil, each awaiting to be discovered and kept as his own by the man who found them. 

"What treasures await us, oh kind and generous master?" the slaves asked in excitement.

"Only what you deserve," he replied. "For I have buried treasures ranging from great to small in my fields, their allotment granted only to the man who is worthy of them. But one treasure stands out among the rest. A single gold coin is buried somewhere beneath the hardened earth. To the slave who finds this coin I will grant him his freedom, that he may come and go as he pleases throughout my lands."  

The master instructed the slaves that they could spend as much time searching the fields for whatever treasure they wished, but once they had found an item that suited them and brought it back to the master's house they could no longer return to the fields for another. When the first rays of the morning sun crested the horizon the slaves scattered like locusts into the field. Very soon the cries of jubilation echoed throughout the lands as slaves began digging simple trinkets and wooden toys that their children might play with from the earth. These treasures were found close to the master's estate, barely a stone's throw from where their journey had begun and were so numerous that to place one's hands into the soil was to find a new trinket. The slaves that found these treasures contented themselves with their discovery and hurried back to their master's house to secure their prize.

"Look what we have found, oh generous master!" they proclaimed, each holding their prizes high above their heads as they vied for their master's attention.

"Are you satisfied with your lot?" he asked. "For you know that once you have claimed a treasure you may not return for another."

"Yes," they shouted in unison, holding their prizes tight against their chests like a recent mother cradling her newborn child.

Their master nodded and pointed his bejeweled fingers towards a nearby patio filled with fountains that flowed violet with gifts of the vine. "Then take your prize to my covered patio that overlooks the fields, where you may delight in the cool breezes and shaded terraces, and enjoy your treasure for the rest of the day in leisure." With excitement the slaves retreated to the patio where the allure of indulgence awaited.

At noon the sun adopted its perennial amber glow as it rose high into the sky while more slaves returned to their master's house with treasures of various sorts. Some held small pouches of copper pennies darkened further by muddied soil. Others found fine raiment of silken and violet design that they twirled about their bodies so that they seemed to be encased by lilacs. The further from their master's house they dared to venture, the more precious their treasures became, such that those who had first returned with their simple trinkets earlier in the day began to grow jealous. Not wanting others' contentment to exceed their own, they taunted those still in the fields, that they might abandon their pursuit of riches to join their fellow slaves in the cool shade of the patio. One man in particular who had wandered furthest away from his master's house soon became the subject of endless taunts at the hands of these jealous slaves. 

"You toil for some better prize out in the hot fields while we relax in splendid luxury!" they proclaimed, their laughter riding the taunting winds that streamed from the patio to fill the ears of the target of their jest. "Come now, abandon your pursuit and accept what meager treasure you have found so that you may join us in the cool shade that our master has offered."

"Your offer is tempting," the man far away in the fields shouted back. "But my heart is set not on meager treasures that will be forgotten tomorrow, but on the gold coin that our master has graciously given me the opportunity to find. With that coin I will cast off my shackles of slavery, for it is my freedom that I intend to find this day."

At his declaration the other slaves erupted in uproarious laughter. "Do you not see how great the fields are, such that they seem to stretch from one end of earth to the other. And you, who are but one man, thinks he can taunt the gods by daring to proclaim his fate undecided. Why not abandon this folly and join us in the cool shade that our master offers as the slave's only consolation. Will you not enjoy your temporary respite? Would you not then be happy, if only for a day?" 

Beads of sweat dripped from the man's brow and fell onto his muddied hands that dug steadily through the dirt. He paused, pulled his hands from the soil and rose from his knees so that his lanky frame cast a long shadow all the way from the horizon back to the master's house far in the distance.

"Perhaps you are right," he conceded, wiping away the sweat that stung his eyes. "Perhaps it is the lot of a slave to accept his life of toil and simply be thankful for a benevolent master's offerings of temporal pleasures. But as I live, I will find that gold coin and declare myself a free man this very day, while tomorrow you will still be slaves." Without further acknowledgement, the man continued his pursuit without cessation, with thoughts of freedom as his only companion.

In the heat of the afternoon sun his fingers began to crack as dried mud and clay clung to them and opened raw fissures within his skin. His back became stiff and sore, the pain increasing with every bend to the ground as his search labored throughout the day. Along the way he happened upon inferior treasures of various sorts, large sacks of copper pennies worth a day's wage or beautifully woven scarves and handkerchiefs that he imagined would adorn his beautiful wife in grace and honor. Yet as soon as these thoughts invaded his mind they would be quickly cast aside as he feared any distraction, no matter how minute, would lead him astray. Neither riches, nor comforts, nor even a woman's devotion were as precious to him as his heart's true desire: Freedom, that most elusive and greatest of treasures.

By twilight the fields had grown quiet. The last of the slaves had retired for the evening into the welcoming delights of the patio where sweetmeats and the offerings of the vine still flowed freely. Laughter and merriment filled the air as each slave brandished his treasure in an effort to both disparage and impress his fellow companions. Their carousing rode the unimpeded winds far out into the fields where it happened upon the ears of one last slave whose day's labor was not yet at an end. No laughter filled his heart, nor even had offerings of the clouds mercifully graced his lips as they grew anxious for a drop of wine that other slaves imbibed so freely. Instead, his steps were slow and his breathing labored as he trudged wearily forward in waning anticipation. Around him lay endless treasures that bore testament to his long hours of struggle and defeat. Pennies were scattered far and wide so that in the setting sun a reflection of the stars above seemed to glisten underfoot. Beautiful statues of ivory and onyx, half-covered with dirt as they had been torn from the countryside, decorated the landscape while lamps of shimmering gold were tossed aside and lay upturned in neglected earthen mounds. All these riches followed a path to the man who, while still on hand and knees, tore apart the ground to the neglect of his bloodied fingers that laid testament to his devotion towards a single purpose. Caught between the crimson skies above and the rivers of bloodied soil below, his eyes glistened with a fiery red hue that men of all ages have been quick to ascribe to the gaze of some ravenous beast.

The man plunged his hand again into the unforgiving soil, expecting to withdraw yet another fistful of worthless sand, when he felt his fingers grace a smooth surface whose corners were without end. His hand clamped tightly around the familiar object before his clenched fist thrust skyward, flinging sand and dirt high into the air in a display that rivaled even the great Vesuvius. In the waning light of that crimson orb retreating beneath the horizon, the man slowly opened his fist to see a familiar golden smile, wider and more excited than ever he had seen throughout his days.   

"Well done my good and faithful servant," a deep voice proclaimed, startling the man so that he quickly turned around to discover its source. From shadows dark as night that began just at the edge of the field his master emerged, dressed in long robes of violet silk that accentuated his splendor. He walked towards the man, seemingly expectant as the outline of his upturned lips was just visible from beneath his bearded face. 

"Here I have waited, from dawn until this very hour," the master began. "that one of my slaves may indeed possess the fortitude to see my challenge through and claim his freedom. Yet in all that time, not one slave has come to search out my coin and take it upon himself to cast off the shackles that confine him. Instead they all wait like dogs before mealtime for me to grant them their freedom, dreaming in idle sloth about the day their toil will be at an end. But when the opportunity arrives to end their struggle, most abandon this pursuit as soon as it has begun, choosing instead a life of temporal pleasures that to the unwise seems easiest of all." From the quiet stillness of his fields he looked upon the lights of his distant manor, watching the dark silhouettes of slaves dithering to and fro in drunken stupors like shadows upon cave walls.

"To those whose fear of falling causes them to lean against their prison bars, a lifetime of self-imposed drudgery awaits, the price of ignorance which exacts its hefty toll." The old master placed his hand upon his servant's shoulder, smiling at him with pride as a father delighting in the achievements of his son. "Yet you alone have chosen a different path. Through careful reflection you have discerned that true joy is found only in freedom, and that to possess that freedom no burden, no matter how great, is too heavy. You have attained your freedom not through reliance on the gods or the capricious whims of those men thought to possess it, but through toil and sweat and your own determination. You have gifted yourself with freedom, and because of that have bestowed a treasure upon yourself that no man can take away."

He extended his open hand as the servant placed the gold coin within it. The two men walked back to the manor not as master and slave or even father and son, but as equals, the privilege all free men enjoy in delighting in that sacred treasure that no man, once relinquished, can ever regain, nor any man, once discovered, can ever lose.

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I will explain my reasons for writing this story on July 16, 2013.