The Hermit's Wisdom

Samuel was a rather rambunctious youth. As with most his age, he seemed destined for everlasting rebellion. His father Oswald, a politician born from a long line of regal landowners, was rather displeased with this situation. Samuel was his only begotten heir after all. Thus, Oswald took the boisterous youth to meet his elderly uncle; Bartholomew the wise. As father and son arrived in horse drawn carriage, the grey cloaked figure of Bartholomew announced his presence from afar. "Oswald, my younger brother, what brings you to the depths of these isolated woods? Have you come to join me in my spiritual pursuit? And the boy... what of him?" His voice bellowed with stoic equanimity. "I am simply here to ask one favour of you, my brother. Teach this young lad the ways of the elders in as little time and with as much precision as you can. For that I shall be ever grateful." Oswald replied modestly. The hermit lowered his stance so as to sit eye to eye with the now startled boy. "Tell me, young one. If what we see with our eyes often if not always deceives, then what can we trust in this world?" Samuel replied with a slight stutter "n-nothing at all, sir." Bartholomew smirked, knowing full well that his little nephew was wiser than his age made it seem. "Now let me ask you this young Samuel" he looked up at the sky "everything the eye beholds has its rise and fall, even the stars in the sky above. But what of numbers?" He said as he lowered his gaze. "Can you bear witness to a time when seven came to be, and when it shall cease to exist?" The boy's mind began to ponder. "We can definitely see seven things come together and watch them fall apart, but seven itself has no footing in time nor space. That is what you ought to know and emulate. All else is folly, young Samuel." And with that, Oswald left with a son who was no longer a boy.