Carrying these stones, one by one, I build a grand structure. Four walls, a roof, a palace.

To reach it I have hewn a trail into the mountainside, loop upon loop, switchbacks, a forest highway.

I am already whom you made me to be, Lord, yet I labor daily to leave a mark. The forest will grow to reclaim my dwelling, the pathway will choke with brush. What traces will I have left then?

I should instead have wandered from hut to hut, bringing cheer and welcome to my fellows, making friends.

There is still time, let me go calling.

(Letter #2,500)

Grudgingly have I crawled along this hallway, wishing I could return to the refuge of my chambers and a soft bed. The cock crows and the chores do not wait for an aching back and weary grip.

I am one piece of the machinery of industry, standing before a great stamping press, keeping my hands just ahead of its cutting maw as I feed sheet after sheet into it.

Lord! These days of labor are sea mist. I play at being a figure of woe but I am the child of the king, charmed and blessed with ease and sunshine.

What I thought was pain is the tingle of power. What I thought woe is joy.

I am dancing in place, twisting, reaching! No cog I.

Tonight I will run back home to tell of all the wonders I saw and did.

Why was I crawling? I scarce recall.

(Letter #2,499)

I walked along a ridge line with steady wind coming up from the valley. The farmland below was drenched in sun while I battled the breeze. From the fields they watched a lone figure struggle against unseen forces.

Did my heroic efforts generate gratitude in the multitudes I saved?

Did my hunching gait provoke pity as they wondered why I resisted so dramatically?

Up here, a couple strolls by, holding hands as they break from their chores, sun on the backs of their necks.

The war is long over, why battle I? Let me turn my face toward warm sunshine.

(Letter #2,498)

Is today the day? Will my hopes arrive?

There is a flood of relief as I unclench my fist. There is no battle to join.

I have already won my race, found my treasure, made family proud.

We are all already safe, sound, whole, loved.

(Letter #2,497)