July/August 2009 Editor's Viewpoint
Editor's Viewpoint 7-09

My family grew up hearing stories about the great gold rush in the western mining towns of Colorado. Back then, men were wild with gold fever, willing to give their lives for a prized golden nugget.

One such man spent many days traveling the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, searching for the elusive golden rocks. Spring turned to summer and then the winds of fall began to howl, portending the coming freeze of winter. The miner kept going, oblivious to the constant pangs in his belly. Only when the snow began to flurry around him did he stop. Staggering up the hill to a rocky area, he sought shelter, leaning back against a rock. Teeth chattering, he tried to dig his feet into the cold, hard earth for warmth. Before he knew it, the rock gave way and he tumbled backward into a cave.

Had he found the gold mine of his dreams? He didn't have any way to light a fire in the cave, so crawling on his hands and knees, he decided to taste every rock to see if it had that sweet taste of gold. Scrambling forward, his hand painfully landed on a jagged rock. Licking the stone, he tasted only the mustiness of dirt. He moved slowly forward for hours, maybe even days, tasting each rock until he could take the darkness no more.

Thinking that he was a fool to blindly crawl through the dark, he realized he had no way to find his way out. Sitting back hard in defeat, he gave out a yelp when he landed squarely on a jagged rock. Out of stubborn habit, he licked the nugget. No sooner than the rock touched his dry tongue did he realize that it was the elixir he had been searching for his entire life - gold. Howling with laughter, he could see the riches piling up around his feet.

He spent hours in that spot, searching for more gold, but none was found. Deciding that he could make do with what he had, he spent hours, maybe even days, crawling in the darkness to find his way out. Finally, he saw a faint light up ahead signaling his entrance into a life of luxury. Staggering out of the cave, he sealed the entrance and was about to turn to walk down the snow covered hill when he slipped. He tumbled down the mountain, landing unceremoniously in a bloodied heap by a swift moving creek.

A small boy gathering water heard the miner moaning. Running to fetch his mother, they returned to find the miner at death's doorway. Reaching into his pocket, the miner pulled out the precious gift.

"Here, take it and make a fine life for yourselves," the miner whispered, tears streaking his dirt covered face.

The boy's eyes crinkled in surprise, but the woman pushed him behind her skirts.

"God bless you and keep you, dear sir," she said as she knelt down by the miner's now lifeless body.

"Fetch the cart and we'll put his body in the storage cave until the spring thaw comes and we can bury him properly," the mother told her son.

After loading the dead miner on the cart, they pushed and pulled him back up the hill to the very cave from which he had just emerged. After laying him down to sleep in his winter resting place, the mother and child pushed the rock back into place.

Taking the miner's prize from her pocket, the woman examined it closely.

"Why did that man give you an old sheep bone?" the boy asked.

"Because he knew that we needed it for our stew," she replied solemnly.

- Vicky Thompson

Heart of the Issue
Even in the darkness, you can be found.