The Bridgeman and The Hermit Goblin

In the land of Dover there lived a most humble Bridgeman. He spent his days building bridges across the many rivers and creeks that ran through their small village. Each bridge he built brought Dover fortune and great joy. For without them they would be stranded in their homes with no way to provide for their families. The horses and carriages used the bridges daily and the children were able to safely play with their friends on the other side of the rivers and creeks. Fishermen and Hunters used the bridges to carry their meat home to the hungry families that needed it the most. Loggers hauled their felled trees effortlessly over the beautiful cobblestone so their loads wouldn’t get soaked or torn from the wagons by the strong current of the rivers.

Indeed, the Bridgeman was most respected in Dover for all the fine work he did building the bridges.

But there was one river in all of Dover that had no bridge. On the other side of the giant river of Eastenburg there lived the dreaded Hermit Goblin. Over the decades other Bridgemen worked tirelessly to build a bridge to connect the village of Dover to the green countryside that the Hermit Goblin hoarded. Throughout the years, the Hermit Goblin burned the bridges that dozens of Bridgemen attempted to construct. 

So notorious was the Hermit Goblin that the people of Dover often told horrid tales of his cunning wrath and his very name had fallen into dark legend. The children were told to not set foot a mile within the Eastenburg River for fear that the Hermit Goblin would abduct them and keep them as his own. 

Of course, those assumptions were no more than hurtful rumors that terrified the poor children of Dover. Throughout the years Eastenburg was feared and the Hermit Goblin loathed in the worst way. 

In reality, the Hermit Goblin was a simple creature. He cared for the trees as though each one were his dear friend. He knew the birds and small rodents by name and respected the large predators that roamed the land on the other side of Eastenburg. The Hermit Goblin didn’t care for the people of Dover. Over the decades their interactions had been unpleasant since the Hermit Goblin didn’t look or act like the villagers. 

After all, having green skin and yellow pointy teeth was a characteristic that most humans didn’t find pleasant. Nor acceptable.  

Consequently, the Hermit Goblin strove to live alone with no one to care for him and no one that he had to care for. Trees and animals were all he thought he’d ever need. Therefore, he burnt the bridges all the Bridgemen attempted to construct.

Years of living alone hadn’t been kind to the Hermit Goblin, but he had fooled himself into believing that he was better off. That the villagers only wanted to exploit him and his precious land with it’s trees and lovely animals. He was determined to destroy every bridge that the Bridgemen tried to build to claim what was his. 

So thus, the grumpy Hermit Goblin continued in his miserable loneliness. 

One spring day the Village King came to the Bridgeman’s cabin with a loaf of bread for the family and a plea on his lips. 

“The fish in the rivers are vanishing,” the Village King said desperately. “The deer herds are thinning. We must expand our territory to the Eastenburg River. We must make peace with the Hermit Goblin. Please build another bridge so our needs can be met.”   

The Bridgeman smiled and bowed his head to the Village King’s request. Secretly, the Bridgeman had always known the day would come that he’d be required to construct a bridge over the Eastenburg. He had never attempted such a feat before, but he felt as though he was prepared for whatever hardships laid before him. Though he’d never met the Hermit Goblin, he never believed the tales the gossiping villagers told. 

For he believed that there was goodness in all creatures. Even one so cranky as the Hermit Goblin.

The sun shone brightly the next morning and the Bridgeman could see his path to the Eastenburg River quite clearly. He kissed his beloved wife and children and left them to their busy day. He didn’t know how long it would take him to complete the bridge, but he looked forward to the work with a bright contentment that he’d never felt before. 

Of course it wouldn’t be easy, but he knew he could do what needed to be done. 

The Bridgeman worked for nearly three days before the Hermit Goblin caught on to what he was doing. The Bridgeman went about his work with a song in his heart and sunshine in his eyes when he heard the thundering footsteps of the Hermit Goblin on the other side of Eastenburg. 

“You dare to build a bridge over my river,” the Hermit Goblin snarled angrily. But the Bridgeman could see past his fury to the sad loneliness in the Hermit Goblin’s orange eyes. 

“Hello, dear sir,” the Bridgeman bowed respectfully to the Hermit Goblin. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

The Hermit Goblin snorted and threw insult after insult at the Bridgeman. With each cruel word a piece of the bridge that the Bridgeman had worked so hard to build began to burn. The Bridgeman watch with compassion as the Hermit Goblin destroyed his lovely bridge with his insults. 

“That will teach you to stay away!” The Hermit Goblin stomped off into the trees, disappearing as quickly as he came. 

“Well,” the Bridgeman said to himself as he stared at the smoldering destruction of his hard work. “I guess I’ll just have to make the next bridge better. One that is smaller for only foot traffic. Surely the Hermit Goblin would tolerate a smaller bridge. Perhaps the large bridge overwhelmed him.”

The Bridgeman rubbed his hands together and set to work without taking time to sleep. He needed to get the foot bridge built so that he could apologize to the Hermit Goblin for his offense. 

The Bridgeman worked well into the next day before the Hermit Goblin returned. Dragging boulders behind him in a large net made of vines. The Bridgeman watched patiently as the Hermit Goblin hurled the boulders at his foot bridge. Chunks of cobblestone and wood fell into the Eastenburg River as the boulders destroyed the Bridgeman’s second bridge. 

“Well,” the Bridgeman muttered in amusement. “Perhaps the Hermit Goblin thought the bridge was unsafe for children without proper railing. How kind of him to think about that. I’ll have to thank him when I finally get across the Eastenburg.”     

After a brief rest to keep his spirits up, the Bridgeman set to work making a foot bridge that was even better than the last. With nice hand rails to keep the children safe and firm cobblestone that glistened in the sunlight. The Bridgeman was quite satisfied with his work. After many days of building the Hermit Goblin came back a third time with just as many boulders and harsh words. 

The Bridgeman dodged the boulders that the Hermit Goblin threw at him and the bridge. The name calling and insults set the bridge ablaze. The Bridgeman stood back and watched with an understanding heart as the Hermit Goblin destroyed his third bridge. 

The sadness in the Hermit Goblin’s orange eyes and the loneliness in his soul kept the Bridgeman from being angry. He knew the Hermit Goblin needed a friend. 

“Perhaps it’s not the bridge at all,” the Bridgeman said to himself as he watched the Hermit Goblin storm away. “I must keep trying.” 

Day after day the Bridgeman worked on his foot bridge and then watched as the Hermit Goblin’s cruel words burned it down. Undaunted, the Bridgeman kept working and let the Hermit Goblin’s harshness wash over him like water. The Hermit Goblin’s poisonous attitude only made the Bridgeman more determined to build his foot bridge. 

Then one day, the Bridgeman realized that the Hermit Goblin had returned without the boulders and harsh words. The Bridgeman bowed respectfully to the Hermit Goblin and continued his work as he whistled a jolly tune. The Hermit Goblin didn’t move from his watch post as he allowed the Bridgeman to finish his foot bridge. They had both lost count of how many bridges the Hermit Goblin destroyed. The debris from the destruction cluttered the banks of the Eastenburg River, but neither the Bridgeman nor the Hermit Goblin paid it any mind. 

Finally, after many long days of work, the Bridgeman finally made it across the Eastenburg River. He stood at the end of the bridge and gave the Hermit Goblin the most sincerest of smiles. 

“Good day, sir,” the Bridgeman bowed his head happily. “Good day indeed. I’m happy that you allowed me to finish my work.” 

The Hermit Goblin pursed his lips and his eyes narrowed skeptically. “What do you want with my land?” 

The Bridgeman’s smile widened and he held his hand out to the Hermit Goblin. 

“Why, dear sir, I do believe you misunderstood my intentions. After you destroyed my first bridge that was big enough to carry over horses and buggies, I realized that I owed you an apology. Truly, I never meant for the villagers to invade your home and disturb the trees and animals that you hold dear. I hope you can forgive my trespass and I hope that you’ll accept this small foot bridge as my gift to you.”  

The Hermit Goblin took a step closer to the Bridgeman, the sadness in his orange eyes seemed to dim. “You didn’t come here to cut down my trees or hunt my animals.” 

“At first, yes,” the Bridgeman said with a bow of his head. “But I have seen the error of my ways. I have no designs to cut down all your trees and kill all your animals. No, sir, I merely built this foot bridge so that I could shake your hand.” 

Bewildered, the Hermit Goblin cautiously took the Bridgeman’s hand. He’d never before shook the hand of one of the villagers. It wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d previously thought it’d be. 

“It appears that I owe you an apology as well,” the Hermit Goblin said cordially. “My prejudice was uncalled for. I should not have destroyed the bridges you tried to build.”

The Bridgeman smiled in acknowledgement and thus a new friendship was formed. 

“Might I call on you again sometime, sir?” the Bridgeman asked. “Perhaps I can bring you dinner? My wife is a marvelous cook.” 

For the first time in many decades, the Hermit Goblin smiled.

As time went on, the villagers discovered how harsh their gossip about the Hermit Goblin was. They often used the foot bridge to visit him and his beautiful land on the other side of Eastenburg. The Hermit Goblin realized how wrong he was about them as well, and he relished the company that he’d so long denied himself. 

Eventually the Hermit Goblin helped the Bridgeman build a large bridge that could carry horses and buggies over to his land. For the Hermit Goblin felt that he should share the wealth of his land with the villagers. So that his deer herds could be occasionally hunted to keep them healthy and strong. He allowed a few old trees to be cut so new growth could come to the land. The villagers and the Hermit Goblin were finally able to live together in peace. 

Even though a larger bridge had been build, the Bridgeman and the Hermit Goblin preferred to use their foot bridge when they visited each other. For it had truly withstood the test of time and true friendship. 

THE END

As The River Flows

Have you ever floated down a river? Or at least sat next to one and observed the waves as they raced by? At first glance, it appears to be calm and unassuming. The gentle ripples flow by without a care in the world and it brings with it a sense of tranquility. The peace that can come from a rafting adventure is truly an amazing experience.
Some of my most treasured memories involve rafting trips down Alaskan rivers. Learning how to drift through the current and how to maneuver around the river bend is an empowering experience. Once you’ve figured out when to row and where to angle your raft to use the current to your advantage, the ride can be fairly relaxing.  
That is, until your raft hits a submerged rock and you’re unceremoniously dumped into the frigid roaring water.
And just like that, your view of the river shifts. If you don’t know how to swim, you might be in a bit of trouble. Or if you get caught in an undertow you might realize that you aren’t as skilled as you previously thought. It’s at that point that you’ll have some decisions to make. Maybe you’ll ride the waves for a bit until rescue comes, or you’ll hold onto a tree branch that’s within your reach. Either way, you’ll realize that the river isn’t what it appeared to be. It’s not gentle and it’s definitely not calm.
Of course, chances are that you’ll manage to get back on your raft. When you’re safely above the current it may seem as though the river is a restful place to be. But you’ll soon realize that the water is constantly changing. Perhaps you’ll have to maneuver around a malicious looking boulder, or you might have to change course to avoid an ominous waterfall. The whitewater rapids will force you to hold on tightly to your raft as you adjust to the change of pace.
You’ll eventually come to the determination that the river isn’t what it appears to be at first glance.
It might be difficult to notice that there are other people around you having their own rafting adventure. You’re so focused on your own challenges that you might fail to realize that a family member or friend is stuck in the sweepers. Or maybe you do notice their struggles, but you’re unable to help because you’ve got a boulder in front of you that needs your immediate attention.
So naturally, you’re only option is to shout instructions to your friends as they awkwardly try to paddle around the sweepers. Of course, they’ll ignore you. After all, you’re having difficulties of your own and their experience is drastically different than yours; even if you’re an expert at avoiding irksome sweepers.
After a moment of frustration, you’ll realize that your friends will have to learn how to navigate around the sweepers without your help. It’s more effective for them to figure it out on their own anyway since there will, undoubtedly, be plenty more sweepers in the miles ahead.
By the end of the journey down the river, you won’t be the same person you were when you first started. You’ll have experiences under your belt that may change your view of the world. Maybe you realized that some things in life aren’t as easy as they seem. You’ll also come to the conclusion that everyone has their own challenges and the outcome to their struggles may vary from yours.
Indubitably, mistakes will be made and valuable lessons learned.
With these experiences, you’ll find that you have changed fundamentally as a person. Just like a river,  you aren’t meant to remain exactly the same throughout your life. You are not the same person you were five years ago, maybe you’re not even the same person you were last week.
And that’s perfectly normal. How else are we supposed to improve ourselves if we don’t learn and grow everyday? But just as we learn and grow, it’s important to remember that the people around us are doing the same.
It’s hard to think about that sometimes, especially when we witness something we disagree with or overhear a distasteful conversation. Maybe they’re having a rough day and a small smile from you might brighten their mood. It’s also possible that their challenges have gotten the better of them and they aren’t ready to make the change that will help them rise above their demons. It will surely be difficult, but don’t give up on them just yet. After all, patience can be your lifelong friend if you nurture your relationship with it.
Just like an adventurous float down the river, don’t neglect to be prepared for the unexpected. Life has so many twists and turns that, if you’re not careful, you might miss something spectacular. As experiences come and go don’t resist the change that comes along with them. You were destined for better things and it would be a shame if you sold yourself short.
So keep paddling through the treacherous rapids ahead of you. They’re bound to change you for the better.  

Mountains To Conquer

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly? To soar through the air like a majestic eagle. To feel the wind beneath your wings with no chains to hold you down. Imagine the beauty you would see; treacherous rivers, clement beaches, forests that stretch out for miles, and magnificent snow capped mountains. Sometimes when I watch a bird glide it’s way through the sky I dream of what that would be like. To be able to fly over my troubles and live my life without a care in the world is an alluring thought.
I have been surrounded by gorgeous mountains my entire life. Living in Alaska has the benefit of breathtaking views and countless trails to explore. When I see the mountains in my backyard I always feel as though they’re speaking to me. Their beauty is undeniable and impossible to ignore. What I wouldn’t give to have the power of flight. To sprout wings and take off toward the highest peaks. To never be burdened with the struggles that hold me down.
Wouldn’t life be easier if we could just soar over our mountains instead of having to climb them?
Of course it would, but things in life are rarely that easy.
Even though the thought of simplicity is tempting we should be grateful for our uphill climbs. Take a moment to think about what the birds miss out on. They don’t get to feel what it’s like to stub their toe on a rock, or trip and skin their knee. A journey up our mountains will make sweat pour down our backs with noxious bugs swarming around us. The adventures we experience on our trails will be fraught with difficulties that might render us feeling incapable. There will be times when we will want to surrender ourselves to the mercy of the mountain and retreat to our protective shelters.
Of course, there will be some enjoyable moments too, or else the uphill climb wouldn’t be worth it. Maybe you’ll take a friend along that has a whole playlist of spectacular music that makes the hike bearable. There might be moments on the journey that you’ll be on your own too, but the memorable views are often more glorious that way.
Even with the countless disadvantages that life throws at us, it would be tragic to avoid those experiences. If we flew over our mountains we wouldn’t know the triumph that comes from conquering them. The view from our summits wouldn’t be as meaningful if we didn’t work so hard to achieve our goals.
The undeniable beauty is in the journey itself.
My journey has had it’s own ups and downs. Being a wife and mother is cluttered with foggy days that cloud up the view of my incredible summit. Sometimes my trail is full of darkness and I fear that I won’t be able to find my way. The uphill climb is so exhausting at times that I wonder how I’m going to get out of bed, let alone put my hiking boots on. Those trying days are the times that it is important to remember what I’m climbing for.
But my adventures are not always so dismal.
There are days that are filled with sunshine that chase the pesky mosquitoes away. The laughter of children can clear the fog that shrouds my lovely views.  A delightful conversation with a friend can uplift my darkened mind. Taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air can drive away mundane feelings.
So make the most of your journey. Persevere through the difficult days. Don’t let the trepidation of the unknown cause you to give in. The temptation to fly over your mountains might be strong, but your sheer force of will is stronger. Enjoy the good parts of your climb when you have them and smile through the rest. Even if it doesn’t seem like it at times, you will conquer your mountain. Your experiences from your climb will give you the fortitude to take on the next captivating peak that plants itself in front of you.
The journey wasn’t just meant to be endured, so don’t forget to enjoy it too. Life is more beautiful when we have mountains to conquer.

Are You A Dreamer Too?

What do you think of when you hear the term ‘dreamer’? Is it only something you do at night when you’re sleeping? Or maybe during an office meeting when you should be paying attention? Perhaps you desperately needed an escape from stress and your mind wandered when it shouldn’t have? You could be dreaming up world changing ideas, hopes, or wishes. Maybe you’re just thinking about a funny meme that you saw on facebook while your spouse is telling you about their day. We’ve all been there, right? If you say ‘no’ than I’m fairly certain you’re being less than honest with yourself.
For me, it’s a story inside my head. Dreaming makes life adventurous. It makes the mundane tolerable and the tedious more exciting. There’s nothing more entertaining for me than to create a character inside my head while I’m cleaning or chasing my rambunctious children around the house. Or plotting a landscape that can’t be seen with the naked eye and creating colors that aren’t part of our reality. Better yet, imagining a dramatic fight scene that I can later put down on paper while I’m trying to help my struggling toddler clean up his spilled milk.
Let’s just say; without my imagination life would be intolerable. I can’t comprehend what my world would be like if I didn’t have this gift. The ability to create worlds and characters that have thoughts, feelings, actions, and relationships is such a huge stress relief for me. It really has been a blessing in my life. I’m sure that the people who know me personally don’t realize that while they’re talking to me I could be creating another conversation in my head between the characters I’m working on. Or while I’m sitting on their couch watching our kids play I’m rehearsing what I’m going to type on my computer when I get home. It can be awkward, I suppose. Especially when I blurt out something random that has nothing to do with our real life conversation.
Being a mother is so amazing and I love hearing my children create their own stories through their playtime. Each and every one of us used to be the same way. As children our job was to play. We used our imaginations without feeling embarrassed or self conscious about who could be watching or listening. I remember playing with my brother and cousins in the backyard and we would create battle scenes playing ‘Cowboys and Indians’. Sticks were swords, rocks were grenades, trees were meant for climbing, and the ‘stink bomb’ mushrooms were poisonous gas if you stepped on them. We were ninjas, hunters, soldiers, orphans, and every other thing we could think of. Sometimes as the only girl in the group I would be the princess. Of course, I wouldn’t allow myself to be too dainty because a princess had to be able to fight her way through the backyard that had suddenly turned into a spooky jungle.
But, like all good things, it has to come to an end. Right?
Growing up is inevitable and it’s also the goal. To see a child grow to adulthood and become successful is every parent’s hope. Unfortunately, in many ways, I think our imagination dies. We tend to forget about the fairy godmother that showed us the way through the forest so we could escape the wicked witch. Or the best friend with the curly purple hair that no one else could see but you. Instead we go through the stresses of high school and college. We deal with both healthy and unhealthy relationships. Some of us make a family for ourselves to take care of and others focus on goals that they hope will bring them a purpose. But regardless of what we do with our lives, one thing is certain; we work ourselves to the bone everyday. Our work is no longer to play pretend, but to survive in the world. We focus on careers, we raise kids, and maybe we’ll take a vacation every once in a while.
But did our imagination have to die along the way?
Did we have to stop building worlds and creating imaginary friends? Did we have to forget how freeing dreaming could be?
I couldn’t let a good thing like that die, so I chose to embellish it. That’s why I read and write. That’s why I listen closely when my kids are playing to hear the conversations they have with their invisible friends that are so real to them. When I go hiking or climb a mountain its so freeing to day dream along the way. I would be lying if I said that I never pretended that a bear was chasing me while I was jogging. Or that I’ve acted out a scene from one of my books to see if the dialogue sounded decent.
Some may think it is strange for an adult to play pretend like a child, and that’s okay. It’s important to have realists mixed in with the dreamers. But, just like it’s important for the dreamers to settle down and do something productive, it’s also important for realists to relax and let their imagination take flight.
So take the time to dream! Believe that you are what you never thought you could be!
Do something creative everyday. Remember that you are only as old as you think you are. Whether it be knitting, sewing, photography, writing, or building a castle in the clouds; don’t be afraid to be a dreamer. Even if it’s just for an hour or two.