In the middle of a great and shining city stood a door. It was tall and strong, made of a wood that was rich mahogany and seemed to glow with strength and power..

Though it was not locked it bore a brass plaque that read as follow:

"Some simply knock to enter.
Others beat me down.
Not all who cross the threshold
will profit by what is found."

Day and night people made the pilgrimage, coming and going through the doorway. As the saying foretold, some gained entry easily, but came away dissatisfied.
"I don't know what is so wonderful about that place," they often grumbled as they exited. Others battered away for no earthly reason and left broken themselves. More beat the door down only to find that once inside they were too filled with their own triumph to benefit by what the entry had to offer. Still, enough exited in joy and gladness, filled with the look of one given a great gift, that the spot was never idle.
On one cold and blustery day a small child came to the door. Instead of knocking, or attacking or even trying the handle, he simply sat down on the stoop and leaned against the Door.
His name was Trace. The name was given to him when his parents vanished one day without him. Trace had lived many places with many families until the day he wandered up to the door.
Eyeing the great portal as he sat, Trace could smell the oil of the wood. He could see the marks where it had been beaten. He also saw his own face reflected in its shine and with his face mirrored there he saw the Door's scars and his own - one in the same. Trace placed his palm on the Door and felt that it was warm where he had expected coolness. A tingling radiated up his arm and through his small frame and he could feel the voice of the Door within him.
"What has brought you here little one," the voice asked.
Trace thought hard, but could not find a serviceable answer. He came because he had heard that the door made everything better. He came because he was lonely and felt drawn to the Door. He didn't have an answer because that was what he had come to find. So he honestly replied, "I don't know. I think I came just to be near you."
The door swung open wide and Trace got up and walked inside. It closed behind him. Trace found he was in an empty room with ordinary white walls and not a stick of furniture or carpet. He sat on the floor and began to cry.
"Disappointed," asked the voice.
The child stopped crying. His relief rushed like warm water into and empty tub. "I thought I was alone again," the child sniffed. "I cried because I thought you were gone. I was alone."
"Now that you have recognized me as your companion, you will never be alone again," said the voice of the Door.
The room's appearance shifted and all around were doors seemingly identical to the Great One he's entered through.
"Choose," the voice said. "Find the one among the many that is the correct door and your life will never again be empty. You can do it. Once you have felt my presence, seen your self in me, you will never again fail to find me."
Trace stood and looked at the doors. He walked slowly around the room. While all looked like The Door, each contained a slight deviation, a hint that what he was seeing was an imitation. Suddenly he realized that the flaw was the lack of warmth, the shine that did not reflect his image. Then he made his choice and found himself standing back on the doorstep. Trace felt wonderfully whole for the first time in his life.
"Thank you," he said to the door. "Will I see you again?"
The door replied, "You will see me in every threshold you cross. I will never be closed to you my child." And so it was.

Lisa Suhay
Author of 'Tell me a Story" --original fables for adults and children.


Fables by Lisa Suhay