A Parable About Childhood

The boy ran weeping into the forest.
Fleeing the oppression of his parents.
Tears blurred his eyes.
Rage clouded his mind.
After a time the boy became tired.
He found that he was lost.
He drifted.
Out of the shadows stepped a tall old man.
The old man wore a long dark cloak and a broad brimmed hat.
And had one cold eye.
The Wanderer.
"You know me."
The boy nodded.
"Come."
But the boy could not. He was afraid.
After a pause the old man held out his hand.
For although he was rarely kind he was very wise.
The boy grasped the long, cool, strong fingers and they walked together.
The old man lead the boy to a dark and deep pool.
"Look."
In the pool the boy saw a vision.
He saw himself as a young man
Then a turtle, old and kind, with the land nestled on its back.
He saw himself as a man not old or young.
Then, at the murky bottom of the sea, an enormous serpent with its tail between its jaws.
He saw himself as an old man.
Then a fearsome wolf, crazed and wild, chasing after the moon.
He saw triumph and failure. Heartbreak and joy.
The old man dipped a cup into the pool and the vision disappeared.
"Drink."
The boy drank. The vision faded from his memory.
The old man refilled his cup and drank as well.
"You are small and the forest large."
The boy nodded. He knew it to be true.
"But each leaf brings life to the world tree."
And the Wanderer was gone.
The boy, no longer lost, returned home.
For a time contented.