Behind the Rock

Behind the Rock

All my life I had heard stories of a strange old man named Ebenezer Stone who lived by himself out in the woods.  No one knew for sure if he truly existed but, according to the legends, if you met him he could show you everything you would ever need to be happy.  I always doubted that the stories were true.  I couldn’t understand how some crazy old hermit out in the woods could possibly know something the most powerful, intelligent people in the world didn’t seem to know.

One day when I was out walking in the woods, I came to a clearing I hadn’t seen before.  In the center of the clearing was a large gray rock, almost the size of my house.  As I walked toward the rock, I heard a cheery voice say “Hello!”

A little old man was sitting on top of the rock smiling at me.  He was a very small man with a long white beard and twinkling blue eyes.  I hadn’t noticed him at first because he was dressed all in gray and seemed to be part of the rock.  He hopped off the rock and offered me his hand. 

“Ebenezer P. Stone at your service!” he said brightly.

“Happy to meet you Mr. Stone,” I said as I shook his hand.  “Hey, you’re the man everyone talks about!”

“Well now, I didn’t know I was famous,” he said.  “What is it that they say about me?”

“They say you know everything a person needs to be happy,” I replied.

“Well, of course I know that!  Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t think so,” I said.  “I sure don’t. What is it?  Money, love, beauty, power, good food…?”

“Hehehe!” Mr. Stone laughed merrily.  “Not even close, not even close!”

“Well, what is it then?” I asked rather impatiently. 

“Now, I can’t just tell you,” he said. “You have to see it for yourself.  You can find everything you will ever need to be happy behind this rock.  Go on, go back there and see for yourself!”

“Crazy old man!” I thought to myself as I walked behind the rock.  “Why am I even bothering to do this?”

The only thing behind the rock was a small purple flower.  “You mean to tell me that all I need to be happy is a flower?”  I asked as I knelt down and stared intently at the flower.

A small, angry face appeared in the center of the flower. It screamed at me in a tiny voice, “Not me, you idiot!  Keep looking!”

I jerked back and thought “Okay, maybe not this flower!”

  I began methodically searching the area behind the rock.  Other than a lot of dirt and a few pebbles I couldn’t find anything.  Mr. Stone was still laughing at me from the other side of the rock.  Then I started laughing too. I was behind the rock!
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Author's note:  I chose the name Ebenezer for the old man in my story, because it means "stone of help".  His middle initial, P, stands for Peter, which means "rock".