As I set out upon the road one day I came to a woman at the ford of the river sitting upon the rocks weeping. I feared for a moment, because this is as the stories of old are told about a warrior's doom.

I summoned the courage of my heart to ask her why she weeped, in the hopes of catching but a passing glimpse of my fate in the hope that I might change my destiny.

She raised her head and her red eyes showed the effects of the many tears that now stained her silken dress.

"I weep for those who do not know." she said.

Her words puzzled me and I stood back, taken by surprise at the mystery that was unfolding before me.

Seeing I was confused she spoke again. "I weep for those who do not answer my call. Who sit upon the side of the road, content to live but a shallow life without purpose."

Seeing she was not a threat to me, I felt compassion for her and whiped the tears from her eyes.

"Were there more like you, then I would have reason to weep no longer. Today there are those who are content to sit by the side and not answer the warrior's call. They stand in judgement upon those few who do, when they, if they would just answer the call, would be great like the heroes of old. Instead they feel content to lay idly by and let the river wind it's way to the see without them."

Her words sank deep into my soul and I could not purge them from my heart. Her eyes gazed longingly into my face, as if searching for some answer to her misery so that her tears would end and she could go about her way.

She smiled and spoke. "There is hope if they will but remember like you."

And with that she was gone.