MidReal Story
The Lost Spring: A Monastery's Resilience
Scenario: One monk carries water to drink, two monks lift water to drink, three monks have no water to drink.
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The spring had dried up.
The monks stood before me, their eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.
For generations, the spring had provided us with water to drink, water to cook our food, water to wash our bodies and our clothes.
Water to irrigate the fields that we tended.
Now it had gone dry, for reasons we could not understand.
We watched in despair as the last of the water trickled away into the ground.
We had no way of knowing how long it would be before the spring would fill up again.
It was too late to plant crops.
Without a source of water, we would soon have nothing to drink.
The monks turned to me, their leader.
What are we going to do?
I knew that they expected me to have an answer, but I had none.
How could I explain something that I did not understand?
I am Brother Michael, leader of the monks who call this monastery home.
Although I have been here for many years, I still think of it as my new home.
I have always been a man of few words, content to live in my own thoughts and work with my hands.
I am not used to being looked at by so many eyes at once.
But I am a strong man and I am used to taking charge when necessary.
Even so, this was more than any one man should have to bear.
My fellow monks are good men, but they do not know how to deal with a crisis like this.
They have no experience in going without and they have no idea what to do without water.
They look to me, expecting me to come up with a solution.
They know that I will not let them down, but I am not sure what to do either.
I am not a man who is given to panic, but this was beyond anything that I had ever experienced before.
Our life here is simple: we pray and we work, and in between we eat and sleep.
But now our way of life was threatened by something that we could not control, something that we did not understand or know the answer to.
The monastery was located far from civilization so that we could live in peace away from the distractions of the world around us.
But now it felt more like a prison than a sanctuary, holding us captive without the means to live.
I turned to my fellow monks and tried to put on a brave face, even though I did not know what to do either.
We will be all right,” I said firmly, trying to sound confident even though I did not feel that way at all.
“We will find a solution and everything will be fine.”
The words rang hollow in my ears, but I knew that I had to be strong for my brothers.
This monastery has been home to monks like us for centuries, since long before any of us were born.
We study the teachings of the ancient masters and follow their examples in our everyday lives, trying to live up to their ideals and learn from their wisdom.
Every day I spend time in the library, poring over their words and trying to make sense of them, trying to learn from their experiences and apply their teachings to my own life.
The other monks think I am odd for this, but I do not care what they think.
I find solace in the words of the masters and I need them now more than ever.
As I sat in the library, thinking about the problem before us, an old riddle from my youth came back to me: “One monk carries water to drink.Two monks lift water to drink.Three monks have no water to drink.”
When I was young, this riddle had puzzled me and I used to think about it all the time, trying to understand what it meant.
At first, I thought it was simply a matter of division: if there were three monks and no water, then each monk would have to go without his share of water to drink.
If there were only two monks, then each monk would get half again as much water, and if there were only one monk, then he would get all the water he wanted for himself.
But then I thought about it some more and I realized that I was wrong.
It was not about how much water each monk got, but how the water was divided up.
If there were three monks and no water, then no matter how much each monk got, they would all be thirsty.
If there were only two monks, then they might have enough to drink, but they would have to work twice as hard to get it.
If there were only one monk, then he would have all the water he wanted, but he would be all alone.
What good is having everything you want if you have no one to share it with?
That is what the riddle meant.
It is not about how much you have, but what you do with what you have and how you work together with others.
And that is what we would have to do now.
I knew that there was no easy solution to our problem.
We could not simply dig up more water or plant new crops.
We were entirely at the mercy of nature and we had no way of knowing when or if the spring would return.
But we did have each other and we were not without resources.
There were many things we could do and many ways we could help ourselves.
As I thought about this, I felt a surge of energy rush through me and I stood up from my seat, my eyes shining with determination.
I knew what we had to do, and I knew that we could do it together.
I called my brothers together in the courtyard and spoke to them in a strong voice, making sure that they could hear me loud and clear.
Brothers,” I said, “we are faced with a great challenge, but I know that together we can overcome it.
We have always worked together in times of need and this will be no different.”
The monks looked at me uncertainly, their faces reflecting their fears and doubts, but I did not let it bother me.
I knew that they needed me to be strong for them and I was prepared to do whatever it took to lead them out of this crisis.
They looked at me with renewed confidence and resolve, ready to follow my lead wherever it might take us.
We've already tried everything,” said one young monk, stepping forward from the crowd.
“We've prayed for rain, we've dug new channels, we've even brought in a shaman, but nothing has worked so far.What else can we do?”
The young monk's name was Dae-hyun and he was one of our newest members.
He had only just joined us a few months ago and he still had much to learn about life in the monastery.
But he was a clever young man with a good heart, and I could see that he was eager to help in any way he could.
I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes with a warm smile.
Do not worry,” I said gently.“We will find a solution together.I know that we can do this.”
Dae-hyun looked at me gratefully, his eyes shining with relief, and he bowed his head in respect.
Thank you, Brother Michael,” he said.“Thank you for believing in us.”
And with that he turned and ran off to tell his brothers what we would need to do next.
I watched him go, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment swelling in my chest.
It was moments like this that made me proud to be the leader of such a fine group of monks.
I knew that they would do anything to help me, just as I would do anything to help them.
Together, there was nothing we could not accomplish.
As I stood there in the courtyard, looking out over the withered garden and the animals crying out from thirst, I knew that it would not be easy to find a solution to our problem, but I also knew that we would not stop until we did.
As the days passed, our situation grew more and more desperate.
Our water reserves were running low and there was no sign of rain on the horizon.
The crops in our garden were withering and dying, and the animals were becoming increasingly weak and frail from lack of hydration.
We had tried everything we could think of to bring back the spring, but nothing had worked so far, and it seemed that all hope was lost.
I knew that it was only a matter of time before our people gave up and left us, and I did not know what we would do then.
But just when it seemed like all was lost, one of the young novices came to me with an idea.
He was a clever young man with a quick mind and a good heart, and he was eager to help in any way he could.
He had heard me talking with Brother Thomas earlier and he thought he might have an answer to the riddle I had given him.
“Brother Michael,” the young novice said, bowing respectfully before me.
“I have an idea that I think might help us solve our problem.”
I looked at him curiously.
What is it?”
he smiled at me nervously before he spoke.
“I think the answer to the riddle you gave Brother Thomas is that three monks have no water to drink because they are carrying it with them,” he said.
“If three monks have no water to drink because they are carrying it with them, then perhaps the solution to our problem is to carry the water with us as well.
If we cannot bring the spring back to the monastery, then perhaps we can bring the monastery to the spring.”
I looked at him in surprise, feeling a sense of hope rising in my chest.
It was so simple that I wondered why I had not thought of it before.
But as I listened to the young novice speak, I knew that he was right.
It was our only hope.
As I look out over the courtyard now, I see my brothers standing before me, their faces filled with anticipation and fear.
We are about to embark on a journey in search of a new source of water for our monastery, and I can see that many of them are unsure if we will ever return.
It is not an easy journey, but I know in my heart that it is one we must make.
The river we are heading for is several miles away, across rugged terrain and dense forests, but I am confident that we will find it if we try.
It is a pilgrimage that requires faith, humility, and unwavering determination, but most importantly it requires courage.
And I know that my brothers are all brave enough to face whatever dangers may lie ahead.
As we prepare to depart, I am reminded of the teachings of Saint Francis, who once said: “Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted.Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.”
I cannot help but wonder if we are meek enough to inherit the water we so desperately need.
I look to Brother Thomas, who stands beside me, watching the other monks as they gather their things for the journey.
He looks back at me, his eyes filled with determination, and I know that he is ready to do whatever it takes to help me.
“Are you sure about this?”
he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.
I nod, looking out over the courtyard one last time before we leave.
“As sure as I have ever been,” I reply.
As the leader of the monks, the burden falls on me to guide them through this difficult time.
But I know that I cannot do it alone.
I need their help just as much as they need mine, and I am grateful for their unwavering support.
Together, we will find a way to bring water back to our monastery.
We step outside into the bright sunlight, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the empty chapel.
The sun beats down on us from above, its rays warm on our skin.
We are all so aware now of just how fragile life can be without water.
The memory of the dried-up spring serves as a grim reminder of what can happen when we take even the smallest things for granted.
The journey ahead is long and difficult, but we must persevere if we are to stand any chance of finding water.
It is hard to believe, as we set out on our journey in search of water, just how difficult a task it is going to be.
We have been walking for days now and still there is no sign of the river we are looking for.
We have crossed mountains, forests, and valleys, and each time we think we are getting closer to our destination, it seems to move further away.
The physical toll on our bodies is evident for all to see as we trudge along the path.
We are all so tired and weary, but we know that we must push on if we are to find what we are looking for.
We walk in silence for most of the way, our minds focused on the task at hand.
But every now and then, I catch a glimpse of something beautiful in the distance, and I am reminded of God’s presence all around us.
The towering trees, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the crisp mountain air all serve as a reminder of just how close God is to us at all times.
It is in these moments that I find myself filled with hope and determination, knowing that we will find what we are looking for.
I look over at Brother Thomas, who is walking beside me, and I can see that he too is lost in thought.
“Do you think we’ll find it?”
he asks after a while, breaking the silence.
I know what he means, but I am not sure how to reply.
“Of course we will!”
Brother Thomas replies, “Why wouldn’t we?”
I can’t help but smile at his infectious spirit.
Brother Thomas has always been one of the most positive people I know, and I am grateful for his unwavering faith in God’s plan for us.
It is good to have someone like him by my side at a time like this when things seem so uncertain.
“But what if we don’t?”
I ask, “What if we never find it?”
He looks at me for a moment, considering his answer.
“I refuse to believe that we won’t,” he says at last, “God has a plan for us, and I trust that he will guide us to water soon.
We walk on in silence for a while longer, lost in our thoughts as we make our way through the forest.
I can hear the sound of water in the distance, and I am hopeful that we are finally getting closer to our destination.
But as we continue on our way, I realize that it is still a long way off, and we still have a lot of walking to do before we get there.
The sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the path as we make our way through the forest.
We have been walking for hours now, but it feels as though we are no closer to finding water than we were when we first set out.
The dried-up spring haunts us all, and I know that it will not be long before we are all desperate for a drink.
It is hard to believe just how quickly things can change.
One moment we had more water than we knew what to do with, and now we are struggling to find even a single drop of it.
As I think about it, I can’t help but wonder if perhaps Saint Francis was wrong.
I know it is a sin to question his teachings, but I can’t help but wonder if he was being foolish by asking his followers to live without anything but their faith in God.
What good is that going to do us now?
If only we had heeded his words more carefully and made some preparations for a time like this, maybe things wouldn’t be so difficult for us now.
After all, Saint Francis himself didn’t go wandering off into the wilderness with nothing but his robes to keep him warm.
He took food with him and water too, even though he knew that God would provide for him along the way.
So why shouldn’t we do the same?
It doesn’t make sense to me.
And yet, at the same time, I know that Saint Francis was right about one thing–that life is too short to spend worrying about what might happen next.
It is better to live in the moment and enjoy all that God has given us than to spend our days worrying about what might happen next.
And so we will continue on our way, trusting that God will provide for us along the way.
I am still thinking about this when I feel a hand on my shoulder.
I look up and see Brother Thomas smiling down at me.
“We’re almost there,” he says.
I look around and see that we have finally reached the edge of the forest.
The sun is just beginning to set on the horizon, casting long shadows across the grassy plain that stretches out before us.
In the distance I can see the mountains rising up like sentinels against the sky.
They are still a long way off, but I know that we will get there eventually.
We are all determined to find water soon, and nothing is going to stand in our way.
As we make our way across the plain, I am struck by the beauty of the landscape around us.
The grass is so green and lush here, and the air is so fresh and clean.
It is hard to believe that it has been so long since I last saw anything like it.
But even as I am struck by its beauty, I know that there is something missing from this picture–something vital to our survival here.
If only there was a river or a stream somewhere nearby… But there isn’t, and it doesn’t look as though there ever will be.
The memory of the dried-up spring comes flooding back to me, as though it were only yesterday that we discovered it was gone.
We walk on for hours more after that, but it feels as though we are making no progress at all.
The sun sets, and then it rises again, casting its golden light across the plain as we continue on our way.
As the days go by, we all grow more and more desperate to find water soon.
Our throats are dry, and our lips are cracked from lack of moisture.
It is hard to think of anything else but how much we need water.
