Storytime

The story that my friend Joy shared with me . . .

The Hermit and the King

     "There’s an old, old story that I love to tell about a dirty, old man who used to live in a dirty, old house away up on the side of a hill in a country far, far away. He was called a hermit because he didn’t like to be with people. He just liked to live all by himself. He ate as little food as he could so that he wouldn’t have to work any more than he just had to. He never swept his house, he never washed his clothes, and he never pulled the weeds from his garden. He just slept and slept and sat and sat in the sunshine nearly all the time.
     Down in the valley, there was a beautiful city where the good king of the country lived. But the dirty, old hermit was content to live all by himself and only went to the city once in a while when it was necessary to sell a bundle of wood in order to buy something to eat.
     One day the dirty, old man was sitting in the sunshine among the weeds, when he heard a horse coming up the path toward his house, cloppity, clop, de clop, de clop. And he looked and it was the king, riding on his horse up the hill. He came closer and closer. He tied his horse to a post and walked towards the dirty, old house. Then he stood there looking over the valley, to the majestic mountains on the other side. “What a beautiful sight!”, said the king. “Aren’t those mountains beautiful?” The dirty, old hermit heard the king speaking and turned to look at the mountains and the king saw him. “Friend hermit,” he said, “May I come again to look at these majestic hills from your garden? The view from here is so grand it makes me feel like a better man.” But the poor, old hermit was so ashamed of his dirty, old house and his dirty, old garden that he couldn’t speak and he hung his head in shame. And while he sat there, wondering what to do, the king went away.
     “But he will come again”, said the hermit to himself. “And I must get ready for him”. So he cleared away the weeds and swept the path of his house and repaired his old, broken stool and placed it in front of his house and waited for the king to come again.
     And one day he heard a horse coming up the path, cloppity, clop, de clop, de, clop. And he looked out and it was the king riding on his horse up the hill. He came closer and closer and tied his horse to a post and then walked up. And he came and sat on the stool and gazed and gazed over the valley to the beautiful mountains. And the king said, “Thank you, thank you so much, friend hermit.” I just love to come here! May I have a glass of water to drink?” Poor, old hermit, he didn’t dare to tell the king that his cup was dirty and his bucket was empty and his spring was muddy and overgrown with weeds. What could he do? In shame, he ran to the spring to clean his cup but when he got back, the king had gone away.
     “But he will come again”, said the hermit to himself. “He said he would and I must get ready for him.” So he cleaned the spring and cleaned his cup.  Then he put a table beside the little stool in front of his house. And he brought fresh water in his bucket every day and kept it on the table and waited for the king to come again.
     And one day he heard a horse coming up the hill again, cloppity, clop, de clop, de clop. And he looked and it was the king riding on his horse up the hill. He came closer and closer. He tied his horse to a post and walked towards the dirty old house. And he came and sat on the stool and drank a cup of lovely cool water. And the king said, “Thank you, thank you so much, friend hermit.” He said, “I just love to come here and enjoy this beautiful view. It was so good of you to have lovely, cool water all ready. I’m so tired and hungry today. Could I please have a little bread to eat?” Poor, old hermit, he had nothing to eat but a few half- rotten grapes and a dry crust or two of bread. He didn’t dare to offer any to the king. And while he sat there wondering what to do, the king went away.
     “But he will come again”, said the hermit to himself, “He said he would and I must get ready for him.”
     So he went into the forest and cut wood and sold it in the city and bought cornmeal and baked corn cakes every day. Then he watered his garden and weeded his turnips and waited for the king to come again.
     And one day he heard a horse coming up the hill again, cloppity, clop, de, clop, de, clop. And it was, it was the king!  And he came and sat on the stool and drank the water and ate the corn cakes. And the king said, “Thank you, thank you so much, friend hermit. I just love to come here and enjoy this beautiful view. It is so good of you to let me come and rest in your garden and refresh myself with your food and your water.” Then he said, “Friend hermit, I’d like to sleep here tonight so that I could see the sun rise in the morning.” Sleep here?! Poor, old hermit! He didn’t dare to tell the king that he had no bed and that he slept on some old bags on the floor. In shame he hung his head and went inside his house, wondering what he could do. And while he was there, the king went away.
     “But he will come again”, said the hermit to himself, “He said he would and I must get ready for him.” So he went into the forest and cut some nice poles and made a nice bed. And then he cut some more poles and made a nice veranda in front of his house. Then he sold some more wood and bought a nice mattress and a nice blanket. Then he noticed how dirty his house was. So he swept his house and washed his windows. Then he noticed how dirty his clothes were. So he sold some more wood and bought some nice clothes. And every day he swept his house, and weeded his garden, and drew fresh water, and baked corn cakes, and bathed himself, and dressed himself in his nice new clothes, and waited for the king to come again.
     And one day he heard a horse coming up the hill again, cloppity, clop, de clop, de, clop. And it was, it was the king! And the old hermit went to meet the king. And the king came and sat on the stool and drank the water and ate some corn cakes and watched the sun set behind those beautiful mountains. And the king said, “Thank you, thank you so much, Friend hermit!” He said, “I just love to come here and enjoy this beautiful view! It is so good of you to let me come and rest in your garden and refresh myself with your food and your water and to sit here and look over the valley at those great, tall, strong mountains. God must be so good to be able to make mountains like that. And He is so good to let us see them. It makes me want to be a better man and a better king.
     Then the king slept on the nice new bed and stayed with the hermit all night and watched the sun rise in the morning. And the old hermit was so happy because the king ate with him and talked with him and stayed with him.
     And the people didn’t call him ‘dirty, old hermit’ anymore. They called him ‘The Friend of the King!’"