Good friend, I am building this bridge for him!

the bridge builder by will allen dromgoole

an old man going a lone highway, came, at the evening cold and gray, to a chasm vast and deep and wide. through which was flowing a sullen tide the old man crossed in the twilight dim, the sullen stream had no fear for him; but he turned when safe on the other side and built a bridge to span the tide.

“old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near, “you are wasting your strength with building here; your journey will end with the ending day, you never again will pass this way; you’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide, why build this bridge at evening tide?”

the builder lifted his old gray head; “good friend, in the path i have come,” he said, “there followed after me to-day a youth whose feet must pass this way. this chasm that has been as naught to me to that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be; he, too, must cross in the twilight dim; good friend, i am building this bridge for him!”

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