Echos in the Heights

Echos in the Heights

by Teri Ong

High in the highest and craggiest of the crags of the mountains lived three brothers. There they found satisfaction doing their life’s work.

It had not always been so. Their early life had been spent in the big city. There they had wandered about the streets trying to find their calling in life. Always they had traveled with a sense that there had to be something more in life than what they had in the city.

Once in a while, one of them would get the vaguest sense that “Purpose” was near, perhaps just around the corner. “Hey, listen!” said the eldest brother. “Listen to this!” He called out his own name, and even in the noisy clamor of the city, the brothers all heard the faintest reiteration of the first brother’s name.

The three walked on a bit further. As they walked, they pondered the significance of that faint voice that came back to them.

You try it now,” the eldest said to the second born.

Expectantly, the second born called out his own name.

Nothing!

Try it again. Yell louder this time”

Again and again, nothing.

By this time, they had walked so far that they were in a rich suburban area. The houses were large and far apart. Beautiful grassy yards and wide streets filled their horizon.

Try it one more time.”

Nothing.

This is no good. I keep trying and I hear nothing. I’ll wear myself out at this rate. When we heard your name come back to us, something happened inside me. I thought, ‘This is it! We’re getting closer. Maybe we’ll soon find our purpose in life.’ But there’s no feeling like that here. Just empty trying.”

Let’s walk back downtown,” the youngest brother said.

So the three of them walked back to where they had first heard that tiny sound that seemed to come from somewhere far away, yet stirred somewhere within them.

The main street of the big city was not in any way remarkable. It seemed narrow only because the buildings that lined it were so immense and so tall. True sky scrapers.

One of you try it now,” the older brother said, once they had entered the deep metropolitan cavern.

The youngest brother this time yelled his name with all his might. And this time, his name came back to them, small and faint as a summer breeze, but distinct.

A deep sense of expectancy filled their hearts.

Let me try it,” said the second born.

His name came back a little stronger still. But the brothers could not tell if the sound was really stronger or if they were just listening harder.

Then the first born cried out. There it was! His name again riding the wind that was blowing down the concrete canyon.

I think it has to do with the heights and the wind and the cold sky high above us,” said the youngest brother.

My heart tells me you are right. I know of a place that is higher and windier yet, where the sky is bigger and colder, and there is none of the noise of the city. Let’s go there and see what happens.”

So the three brothers left behind their dull and unsatisfying life in the big city and headed for the distant mountains. The trek was long and hard, but the brothers thought little of it since they daily became more and more excited about finding the satisfaction and purpose that they had only tasted in the big city.

The morning was just dawning bright and clear when the brothers crested the top of what could reasonably be called the last “foothill.” Ahead of them loomed the high mountains, rugged and majestic, and not a little frightening.

This is it!” cried the first brother. He jumped from rock to rock in his joy. “Hello!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. It came back clear and strong, “Hello! Hello! Hello!” His heart nearly burst for joy. “Try it yourselves!”

Out!” yelled the second brother.

There!” yelled the youngest brother.

The sound was clear and glorious, rolling around the walls of the craggy canyon. “Hello, Out, There! Hello, Out, There! Hello, Out, There!”

The three brothers knew they had found their destiny in life; they had found their very life’s work. They would sleep every night in a snug cave they found in one of the canyon walls. Each morning they would get up and begin their yelling. Each day their names would roll around the canyon. Some days they BOOMED like thunder. “HELLO! OUT! THERE!” Some days they whispered on a distant breeze. “hello…out…there…”

Everyday they found new joy and energy in their special calling. Occasionally, but only rarely, they had to stay home in the cave because it was too windy or too snowy or too stormy for their names to come back to them. But on every day that was clear and bright, the three brothers gamboled about from rock to rock shouting for the very joy of living.

One day, the eldest brother got up, stretched his arms high above his head, filled his lungs with cold, crisp air and yelled. What he heard coming back on the morning wind disconcerted him a bit.

Hello, There! Hello, There! Hello, There!”

He leapt from rock to rock across to There.

Where is Out?”

Out, where?”

There!” the oldest said impatiently.

I’m not sure where Out is, but last night in the cave, perhaps it was just before dawn, I heard another voice. It was very faint, but it had a compelling quality to it. It said ever so softly, ‘Come, Out. Come, Out.’ And since I got up this morning I have neither seen him nor heard him.”

Hello missed his brother, but had no sense of foreboding. He knew that his brother could take care of himself– wherever he was. Hello took up his life’s work in short order. Hello and There still made a fine team.

Hello! There! Hello! There!” rang from peak to peak from very dawn until very dark, unless it was too windy or too snowy or too stormy for their names to come back to them.

Then one night, or perhaps it was just before dawn, Hello thought he heard a voice, still and small, fainter than a whisper. “Here, There. Here, There,” it seemed to say. And when Hello got up that morning, There was not there.

Hello felt a little lonely at first, but he was not desolate. There was able to take care of himself– wherever he was. Hello felt a need to get back about his work as quickly as possible.

Hello! Hello! Hello!”

All the people who visited those high and terrible regions could hear the sound all around them. “Hello! Hello! Hello!” Hello was no shirker. He had come to the heights for a purpose, to fulfill his life’s calling. He would not give up now.

Each night he slept snugly in his old cave and each morning he stretched and filled his lungs with the cold, clear air that is unique to the high mountains. Then he would set about his daily business. “Hello! Hello! Hello!”

After many years, Hello roused himself a little one cold, clear night. What was that he heard? It was his name, but it was not his voice. Was he dreaming? No, it could not be a dream; it gave him that same feeling of expectancy and longing he had first had back in the big city, so long ago now that he had nearly forgotten it.

There it was again. Soft and still, but very deep, “Hello, my child. Hello, my child.”

He got up quickly. He felt compelled to do so. He knew somehow that this was the same Voice his brothers had heard. He knew that this was the same Voice his brothers had followed.

Hello, my child.”

He stretched out his arms. The breath of the Voice drew him upwards, higher than high. On the strength of that breath, he was going back at last to the One who had first uttered him into existence.

Here I am!”

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