It was a dark, cloudy and dreary day for everyone in the village. Abruptly, a turbulent sound befell that made my head create a high pitched ringing tone. I glanced out the window and the library was on fire. I watched how the books exploded out of rhythm and the bits and pieces of paper drifted gently in the breeze. It didn’t take long for the fire to escalate throughout the village and burn everything to the ground.
Father handed me an iron box, inside was a library book he had borrowed the day before. "This is a book about our people Peter, it is very special to us," said his father. Sometime later, I asked him a question that left him voiceless for a sustained amount of time. “Father, why hasn’t mother come back from work yet?” Then he suddenly stopped in his footsteps and grasped my hands tightly. “It’s better if you don’t worry about her right now," he said flatly.
It’s been weeks since the fire incident transpired in the village. Father has been coughing an awful lot throughout the past few days, sometimes he becomes light-headed and collapses.
One night, before my father and I, go to rest, father presents me the iron box he packed before we left the village. "Swear to me, son, that you will keep our treasure protected," he said weakly. "I promise, father," I said, quietly. I take my father's hands into my own and sleep soundlessly throughout the long and cold night. The next morning, some of the villagers help me bury my father and advised me to leave the iron box. Instead, I left the suitcase near the grave, said a quick 'good-bye' and went to catch up with the rest of the villagers.
Eventually, we reached a small village. Afraid that this village would be slaughtered because of our presence, we decided to continue walking. At that point, we came upon a steep mountain, and knowing that the iron box was too heavy for me to carry, I buried it beside a medium-sized linden tree near the village, where it would be safe from explosives and eruptions. Night came by and we rested so that we could have the strength to climb up the mountain the next morning. Finally, when we reached the bottom of the other side, we came across a town. We planned on seeing their 'leader' and ask if we could rest in their humble home.
Days in the wonderful town turned into months and the months into years. Everyone lived lively and peacefully. I had gotten a proper education and now works as a businessman. Remembering my father's death and the iron box I had promised to protect, I decided to journey back to my home village. When I reached my destination, the village looked very different from what I remembered as a boy. It looked brighter and happier. After my long journey, I chose to rest in one of the rental apartments overnight and decided to journey to where the linden tree was, on foot, the next morning.
When I finally reached my destination, I looked for the linden tree with which I had marked a deep X shape. I dug the treasure box up and read through the book. Out of curiosity, a little blonde girl took a quick peek inside the iron box, hoping there would be some gold and plenty of beautiful jewelry. "There isn't any gold or silver if that's what you were thinking," I said to the little girl. She looked a bit disappointed. "This book is more splendid than any gem in the world," I said, trying to make her feel better. “What’s so special about a book?” she said quietly. “This book is about our people, about us,” I told her. Gradually, we ended up reading the book together until 6:00 pm.
“Thank you for sharing you and your father’s treasure with me, Mister Peter,” said the little girl with a glowing smile. “But for now, I have to go home before my mother starts to worry." Mother… I haven't heard that word since the ‘incident’ that happened in the village years ago. After a short time of ‘awkward silence’, I offered to walk the little girl home. “Safety reasons,” I said evenly. The little girl lived in a small house with pretty flower paintings on both sides of the house. As we walked closer to the house, I noticed some small hand prints in various colors at the bottom right corner. "Till next time," I said, in a manner that there was no chance at all that they would ever come across each other's path again. "Goodnight, Peter," responded the little girl with a sleepy grin.
The next morning, I proceeded to the newly reconstructed library that was once my father's favorite place to roam around in. I brought my book along with me and placed it in one of the library shelves. I thought it would be accurate for people to know what occurred in past generations of their ancestors. I returned me and my people's treasure to the place where it belonged so that others can read it with interest... and with love.
