The young boy entered the edge of the crowd, but nobody noticed him.
Everyone pushed and shoved and bumped and nudged him in every direction, compressing his small body against the hundreds of bodies surrounding him. Despite his best efforts, he could not get closer. Drowning in the heat of the crowd, the boy gasped for air and clawed his way upwards. Filled with panic, he yelled, “Help!”
Suddenly, a voice rang out over the top crowd: “ENOUGH!”
Everyone froze in place and turned their heads towards the direction of the voice. The old man called out again, “Let the boy through.”
The boy snaked his way around the people in the crowd, until he finally reached the front. The sorcerer’s eyes were covered by the brim of his great drooping, pointed hat. He wore a white robe, brilliant as the center of the sun shining bright above.
“You,” the sorcerer said as he raised a skinny finger towards the boy. “Why have you come to see me?”
“I… I’m not sure. I just… got stuck in the crowd,” the boy stammered.
“Why then, did you enter the crowd?” the sorcerer asked.
“I… I’m not sure, I wanted to see what everyone was gathering for,” the boy said, his eyes now staring at the ground. “I needed help.”
“Very well,” the old man said, lifting his head to reveal his face to the boy. “I will help, but first you must tell me what it is that your heart desires.”
“I am tired of being pushed around by everyone,” the boy replied.
Suddenly, a bright light burst above the sorcerer’s head and traveled towards the boy, enveloping him in a cloaking brilliance. The light lifted the boy into the air. Floating high above the crowd, the boy giggled, eyes wide with wonder as the old man laughed.
“Now tell the people what you want!” shouted the old man up to the boy.
And the boy cried out, “I want everyone to stop pushing me around!”
As the sorcerer returned the boy’s feet to the ground, the people, hearing the boy’s wish, formed a clear pathway for the boy to walk through. Everyone in the crowd stood in silence, watching the boy’s every move. As the boy walked along the newly formed path, he turned one last time towards the sorcerer.
The sorcerer smiled at the boy once more and said, “Remember this, my boy. It was not the power of flight that made the people listen to you. It was the power of your voice.”
The boy bowed to the sorcerer in thanks, turned, and ran all the way home.
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The young boy entered the edge of the crowd, but nobody noticed him.
Everyone pushed and shoved and bumped and nudged him in every direction, compressing his small body against the hundreds of bodies surrounding him. Despite his best efforts, he could not get closer. Drowning in the heat of the crowd, the boy gasped for air and clawed his way upwards. Filled with panic, he yelled, “Help!”
Suddenly, a voice rang out over the top crowd: “ENOUGH!”
Everyone froze in place and turned their heads towards the direction of the voice. The old man called out again, “Let the boy through.”
The boy snaked his way around the people in the crowd, until he finally reached the front. The sorcerer’s eyes were covered by the brim of his great drooping, pointed hat. He wore a white robe, brilliant as the center of the sun shining bright above.
“You,” the sorcerer said as he raised a skinny finger towards the boy. “Why have you come to see me?”
“I… I’m not sure. I just… got stuck in the crowd,” the boy stammered.
“Why then, did you enter the crowd?” the sorcerer asked.
“I… I’m not sure, I wanted to see what everyone was gathering for,” the boy said, his eyes now staring at the ground. “I needed help.”
“Very well,” the old man said, lifting his head to reveal his face to the boy. “I will help, but first you must tell me what it is that your heart desires.”
“I am tired of being pushed around by everyone,” the boy replied.
Suddenly, a bright light burst above the sorcerer’s head and traveled towards the boy, enveloping him in a cloaking brilliance. The light lifted the boy into the air. Floating high above the crowd, the boy giggled, eyes wide with wonder as the old man laughed.
“Now tell the people what you want!” shouted the old man up to the boy.
And the boy cried out, “I want everyone to stop pushing me around!”
As the sorcerer returned the boy’s feet to the ground, the people, hearing the boy’s wish, formed a clear pathway for the boy to walk through. Everyone in the crowd stood in silence, watching the boy’s every move. As the boy walked along the newly formed path, he turned one last time towards the sorcerer.
The sorcerer smiled at the boy once more and said, “Remember this, my boy. It was not the power of flight that made the people listen to you. It was the power of your voice.”
The boy bowed to the sorcerer in thanks, turned, and ran all the way home.
