The Traveller – a story.

A traveller one day came across a small village where he found a woman sitting outside her house, drinking heavily.
He stopped as he came up to her and said:
”Why are you drinking so heavily?”
The woman answered:
”Because I’m bitter at life. None of my dreams ever came true, my life didn’t turn out as I had hoped. So I’m drinking my dreams away.”
The traveller took of his backpack and sat down next to her. Then he answered:
”I once believed the same thing. That there was no grace, no ease for a broken heart.”
”But you don’t belive so anymore?”, the woman asked, taking another sip of the bottle.
”No. Because one day, when I was sitting in a similar situation as you are now, a dog came up to me, sniffing my leg, dropping something in front of me it had been carrying around. It wasn’t until I stopped feeling sorry for myself that I was actually able to look at it.”
”What was it?”
”It was a piece of paper.  A travel brochure.” The traveller smiled and shook his head as he stood up, putting on his backpack again.
”I have always wanted to travel”, he said. ”But I’d never realized that I was the one who had to do something about it. And that it didn’t matter what I’d done in the past or will do in the future. Because in that moment travelling was still a dream within me. And when I realized I could follow it, things started happening.”
The woman looked at him, suspiciously.
”Why are you telling me this?”
”Maybe because you’re in need of a miracle.”


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