The Gold Coin

Once upon a time there lived a boy who was the most spirited of sorts. Every day, from morning til dusk he spent his hours exploring the forests or running through fields of dandelions and lilies that grew wild near his home. Within the forests a small stream flowed that was full of brim and trout that turned the waters a soft pinkish hue, so great were their numbers. With his fishing rod resting atop one shoulder and a bag of fresh bait draped over the other, the boy frequently enjoyed many summer afternoons sitting beside the cool waters while the biting fish provided a day's entertainment.

One day, while reeling in an especially large trout, the boy was startled by uproarious laughter just upstream. Forgetting his fishing gear on the river bank, he walked in the direction of the laughter to discover an old man splashing about in the rushing waters. The old man lifted and kicked his legs high in the air, his arms flailing about uncontrollably while his long, white beard twirled around him like a cotton tornado. He was dancing, but more than dancing, he was laughing, smiling, and shouting praises to heaven for reasons the boy knew not. But as the boy drew closer, his presence was spotted and the old man ceased his celebration, instead looking only at the boy who stared at him with an inquisitive smile.

 "Your laughter can be heard far down the river bank," the boy said, still wondering at the reason for the old man's jubilee. "Why are you so happy?"

The old man's laughter momentarily subsided but his smile was no less broad.

"My happiness comes from the rare pleasure that only a man of many years can feel, for I have found something I once thought lost forever...something I lost when I was only a child such as yourself." The old man motioned for the boy to come near, which he did with curious trepidation.

"Found something?" the boy repeated. "You men like a big trout that you have been fishing for in this stream?"

"No, no my child. Something far more valuable. Here, look for yourself."

The old man held out his hand to reveal his prize, a gold coin that sparkled and shone bright in the afternoon sun. Its surface had been polished smooth by the stream's running waters so that one side bore the old man's reflection while the other showed the boy's. Both stared at the coin in awe until the old man finally said, "Years and years ago, so many that my mind can no longer recall, I lost my gold coin in his very stream. My heart was broken at its loss and never again did I believe I would find it, but I have spent a lifetime searching for it, only to have finally found it today!"

He laughed again, but seeing how the young boy's face glowed with excitement at the mere sight of such a coin, the old man did the most curious thing. He kneeled down in the running waters to look the boy in the eyes, extended his hand and said, "My years are many, and soon all my worldly possessions will sift through my fingers like the sands through an hourglass. What good are gold and riches to those who have not the time left to enjoy them? I know what I shall do. I shall give my treasure to you my child, that you may reap the rewards of this gold coin in ways I never did. I give you this gold coin, to have and to hold."

The old man placed the coin within the boy's open palm as he stared in amazement at the unexpected gift.

"But I do not deserve this coin," the boy protested.

"No, you don't," the old man conceded. "It is a gift. Treasure it, be thankful for it, enjoy it...but never, ever lose it; for once such a treasure is lost, it will not be easily replaced. Once this treasure is lost, you will spend all the days of your life searching for it again, only to find not the gold coin you were looking for, but instead a lifetime of regret."

The boy looked again at the coin which felt light in his hand. "What does an old man like you know about loss?" he asked.

The corners of the old man's mouth lifted, but only momentarily as his smile soon surrendered to a more somber expression. "Youth has the power of optimism, for boys and young men believe that, much like the running waters we now stand in, there will be always be a stream of never-ending gold coins to fill their purse. But older men know that such streams eventually run dry, and once a gold coin is lost, a man may spend his entire life in search of another, only to find that his treasure is forever gone."

"I don't understand," the boy replied.

"I pray you never have to," the old man said, and with that he stepped out of the river onto the muddy banks to walk some deserted path that led into the forest. The boy watched him walk deeper into the woods until at last the old man disappeared.

For the next several days the boy was inseparable from his newly acquired gold coin. He spent countless hours polishing it to ensure it maintained its mirrored gleam and would often hold it within his hand wherever he went to ensure that it was not lost. But as time passed, these routines became less frequent, his treasure became less prized, until at last the gold coin was discarded somewhere deep within his trouser pockets where it remained lost and forgotten.

Months passed until one day the boy ventured near the stream again for an afternoon of fishing. Though normally he reeled in several large trout before nightfall, fortune had not been kind this day and the hours passed without even a single bite. Induced by boredom, the boy began collecting stones from the riverbed, some placed in his pockets while others he sent skipping across the stream. With pockets now full, he reached inside to find a particularly smooth stone the seemed perfect for skipping. The boy sent it flying with all his might, watching it skip a dozen times across the still waters before flashing a brilliant golden glow just as it sink beneath the surface. Immediately a feeling of dread overcame him as he watched the golden coin, a treasure he once prized above any other, disappear forever. But this feeling lasted but an instant, for no sooner had his golden coin been lost than the boy decided to walk upstream just a bit so that he might find the old man and persuade him to replace his gold coin with another, perhaps even one that was more beautiful still.

For hours the boy waited. He waited until the last rays of sunlight finally disappeared beneath the horizon, yet still the old man did not arrive.

"Oh well," the boy thought to himself. "Some unforeseen business must have delayed his arrival. Surely he will come tomorrow and I will meet my old friend then."

Tomorrow came, and just as the day before the boy patiently awaited the old man's arrival at the riverbank. But as the hours passed in solitude, the boy began growing increasingly anxious. He unconsciously felt within his pockets, almost expecting to find the gold coin hidden deep within, before remembering that he had so carelessly tossed it away. He missed the gold coin, longed for it even, and as another night fell with no return of either the old man or his beloved coin, the boy could finally stand his frustration no more and broke down in tears on the bank of that cold, lonely stream. He wept. He wept all night until he cried himself to sleep.

As the sun crested the morning horizon, it shone upon a new day...and a new man. Gone was the carefree boy of yesterday, replaced instead by a man whose maturity was hastened by the pangs of regret. The boy had grown up, his eyes suddenly opened, and the carefree frivolity of youth yielded to the true understanding of what he had lost. He had lost something very precious to him, something he had taken for granted and foolishly cast aside, and now -- with the advent of wisdom spurred by his pain -- he realized that he would spend the rest of his life searching for that lost gold coin.

He searched high and low throughout the stream, sifting through sand and silt with fingers turned raw by the frequency of this routine. Days became months, and months turned to years, yet still the man would not relent, still he would not abandon his search for the coin. In time the creases of his face deepened, the color of his hair whitened, until at last he gazed into the stream's reflective waters one day to see a familiar face staring back at him. It was a face he had not seen in many years, a face he last saw on that day so long ago when the laughter of an old man had aroused the curiosity of that boy he once was. But now, as he looked at the face of that old man in these waters, he realized it was not the face of his friend that met his gaze, but rather his own, transformed by years of hardship and loss into a grizzled specter of the boy he once was.

He yelled, cursing the heavens for a lifetime spent in fruitless pursuit of his gold coin. He pounded his fists into the riverbed, casting silt and sand high into the air with each frustrated blow until at last his fingers dug through the soft soil and hit upon something hard. His eyes widened, his fingertips stopped as they felt upon a surface smooth as glass that his hands hand not touched in many years. Summoning all his strength the man grasped firmly around the unseen object and ripped it from the riverbed, sending a spray of water skyward that sparkled in a thousand tiny droplets, yet soon gave way to the radiant golden glow of the coin the man held firmly in his hand. He clutched the coin tightly, holding it close to his chest so that it pressed snugly against his heart. He cried again, this time tears of joy, until those tears soon gave way to dancing and laughter that filled the air with the old man's elation.

"Your laughter can be heard far down the river bank," a small voice suddenly intruded. "Why are you so happy?"

The old man turned to see a small boy who had stumbled upon his celebration. He paused, remembering all those years before when it was he who had found the curious old man laughing and dancing in the river.

He smiled and said, "My happiness comes from the rare pleasures that only a man of many years can feel, for I have found something I once thought lost forever."

The old man summoned the boy closer and placed the gold coin within the child's hand.

"Guard this treasure as you would your heart, that you may never know the pain of losing both...that you will always remember the joy of this moment, when all you have been looking for your entire life is finally found."

The old man waded from the waters of the stream, having found again what he had lost all those years before. A lifetime of sorrow, a lifetime of struggle, a lifetime of wanting only to be reunited with his beloved gold coin -- for that opportunity, no matter how brief, he was willing to sacrifice all. He had found his beloved gold coin again; he had found what he was looking for...and he was finally happy.

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Ornela,

Over the past several months I have written you countless letters, but tonight I wanted to write you a story. For a long time I have simply told you how I feel about you, but by writing you a story I can show you. The stories that I write you are very personal to me, for they are showing you a very intimate part of my heart. Stories have always been my gift to you. When we were together I could never afford to buy you expensive gifts, or take you on exotic trips, but I could always give you the most cherished things to me...my stories. I gave you my stories because I always thought they made you happy, and I just wanted to see you smile.

You are the inspiration for all of my stories, and in this story you are the gold coin. Just like the boy who became an old man, I let go of something very dear to me, and once I realized what I had lost...it was too late. In my case, I let go of someone I love...you Ornela. Everything I have done since that realization, all of my letters, all of my stories, all of my actions over the past year have been made in an attempt to right that wrong. But unlike the story I just wrote, I don't know how ours will end. I don't know if I will find you again like the old man with his coin, or if you even want to be found. You see, I am not the author of our story...we both are. And I hope that you will pick up your pen and write me the words that are in your heart, just as I have written you the words that are in mine -- I hope that you will help me tell our story together.

Love,

Bobby