Rising Tides of Redemption

Dismiss the Days of the Past

With the purging of the foul tide that had polluted their waters and desecrated their shorelines, the people of the harbor were destitute. In the wake of those demanding days, supplies were diminished, stockpiles reduced.

Aware of their urgent need, signals were sent out to longstanding allies pleading for assistance. Scattered replies came back from friends nearby who spoke of their own needs. They too had been befouled by the dark tides.

So entreaties were sent out to distant lands. Small vessels that had survived the tide, stocked with whatever meager stores could be spared, sailed out of the harbor. Riding winds close to shore, they disappeared over the horizon.

Envoys went inland, emissaries with persuasive skills, to make new treaties and seek new accords with the peculiar peoples of the lands near the mountains. The responses they received were cold.   

Witnesses who glimpsed the ambassadors at their return were astounded at the disappointment on their faces. The people began to lose hope. All their efforts had been met with setbacks. Their demise now seemed certain.

But what is this? Atop the tower at the harbor entrance the watchmen raise a flag, a new signal telling of a sighting. The word comes back, a light on the horizon.

Now the lights are spotted from the shore. First one, then another, and more behind. Their sails come into view, and now they break through the harbor mist.

A fresh tide has risen to bring them to shore as they surge into the bay. A dozen majestic ships loaded with supplies. One small vessel leads them, the last of the messenger ships sent out. This one had been gone far too long.

Where have they come from, these ships? Their banners are somehow familiar. Their captain is revealed. He comes from a great friend of long ago, forgotten and ignored for many years past.

Some among the people of the harbor remember those days. They were times of plenty, they say, when together we shared the wealth of the sea.

But we became self-sufficient. We no longer needed their friendship. We thought we could stand on our own. How arrogant we became.

Now these old friends are welcomed back with great relief. Their cargoes are joyfully offloaded, the larders restocked, and the pantries filled. And a relationship that was broken has been restored.