A Seat of Learning

Many years ago - and it wasn't in my time, and it wasn't in your time - there lived, in a remote part of Wales, a young man. He was a shepherd and spent his days and nights looking after a few sheep that he had inherited from his parents before they died. He was very poor, for the sheep brought him little income. He had barely enough to feed and clothe himself with. But he had his dreams. Dreams of a successful future, in which he saw himself studying at a great seat of learning, and using his knowledge to make a great impression on the world. He dreamed of a world in which all young people would have an opportunity to go to school and study in order to improve the quality of their lives and multiply their opportunities. Just as he himself had longed to do.

And although he very much loved the sheep in his care, the beauty of the countryside, the passing of the seasons, and the joy of waking each new day, he sensed there was more to life than this. And somehow he knew that to achieve what he wanted he would somehow have to make his own fortune.

In the summer months he would spend much of his time in the high pastures of the Welsh hills where it was quiet and solitary. Often he would sleep in the ruins of an abandoned chapel, curling up beside the stone walls, sheltering under what remained of the roof, and protected from the weather by the leaves of a great oak tree that had, many years before, seeded itself in the floor of the old church, and now spread its huge branches and leaf canopy above and beyond the confines of the ruined walls.

One night , as he slept here, the boy had a dream. And the dream planted a seed. The boy dreamed that a strange figure, dressed from head to foot in white and green, had come to him and said, "Why do you remain here? If you wish to live your dream, wake up! Do not wait for the world to give you what you seek. Take action! What you want, you must seek. Go to London. On London Bridge your fortune waits. That's where you'll find it. Go seek."

And the acorn in his mind began to grow, and he sold his sheep, saying goodbye solemnly to each one, and began to plan the long walk to London. He took with him sheep's cheese to taste, and pure Welsh spring water to drink, and with the freshness of the upland smells in his clothes and in his hair, he set off. He crossed wide valleys and roaring rivers, he skirted sprawling cities and hiked high hills, he traced the tracks of traders, always heading south and east, until finally he arrived at the great metropolis of London Town.

Now in those days, London Bridge was rather different than it is today. It had many, many arches, and on each side of the bridge, all the way across the river, were shops and houses. The bridge was crowded, bustling with all kinds of life. There were merchants standing in the doorways of their shops shouting their wares. There were horses and carts bringing people and animals to and from the market, the rich passing by in their carriages, and the poor passing by on foot, peering into shop windows at things they couldn't afford. All the world was there, in all its richness. The sights, smells, and sounds of bustling city life.

The young shepherd arrived one day at noon. He had never seen so much activity, or heard so much noise, or felt such excitement in his life. But he was on a mission to find his fortune, so he walked along the length of the bridge to find his destiny. And then he walked back to find where he might have missed it. And returned again. And back again. Time and again, all afternoon and evening, searching for what he could not find. He searched long into the night, long after everybody had gone home, until, exhausted, he finally slumped down in a shop doorway and slept.

He dreamed of his sheep that now he very much missed...

Until he got woken rudely at six o'clock in the morning by a sharp kick in the ribs. "Oi! Get up you little rascal," roared the merchant whose doorway he had slept in. "Whatch'er up ter? I been watchin' ya'll yes'day art' noon'n'evenin'. Watch'er up ter? Walkin' up 'n down. Nosin' in at all the shops. Lookin' at cracks in the pavin' stones. Wondrin' what might fall off the back o' carts. I've a good mind ter turn y'over t' law. Wha's yer game, son?"

"I came here to seek my fortune," stammered the shepherd. "I had a dream."

The merchant rolled his eyes. A small crowd had gathered. "You'll have to do better 'an that, sunshine. Tell us about this dream o' yours, then."

The shepherd explained about the stranger in the white and green robe. "He told me I'd find my fortune here on London Bridge. So I came here all the way from Wales, sold all my sheep see, to find it."

The merchant roared with laughter. "Pay no attention to dreams. Dreams are for fools, children, old women, and the likes. Take my advice, get a proper job, and get on with your life. Work and destiny; that's what matters. Now, move on."

"But my dream ... "

"Listen," cut in the merchant. "Dreams are a waste of space. They're just the devils work. I had a dream m'self last night ... but I'd as soon cut my own throat as take any notice of it. Let me see now. There I was, on a high Welsh hillside, and there was an old ruin church, made of stone and with no roof, and in the middle of that ruin there grew an enormous tree. An oak tree. And there I see, buried deep under the soil, between the roots of that vast oak, a chest of treasure, hidden in haste long ago by a one-eyed pirate. Hah! It's just a dream, a childish fantasy. That's all. Nothing more."

But the young shepherd had already gone, heading back north and west to the Welsh hills. Heading back to the land of his fathers, towards the sweet smelling pastures of the uplands he had left behind so many weeks ago. And it wasn't long before he started digging.

******

The Shepherd never did go to a seat of learning, but he did something else instead. He used his fortune - the pirate's treasure - profitably, and in time became a wealthy merchant, the richest in those parts. And with his profits he built schools, he attracted the best teachers, he offered scholarships for the poor. And it wasn't long before that particular part of his native land had as rich and diverse a culture as any other place in the kingdom.

Today you can still find his statue at the centre of the town where he built his first seat of learning for the poor and underprivileged.

Follow your dream

And seek it out

Your fortune may be closer than you think

Notice all that is around you

Do not dismiss an acorn

However small

For the acorn is the father to the oak.

Primary sources: Hugh Lupton, Paolo Coelho, Sufi tradition