"It's a wonderful story," the nymph observed at last, with less excitement than might have been expected.
"A wonderful story, indeed," the frog repeated. "May I ask your opinion about it?"
"First tell me what you think," the nymph answered politely.
"Good. You are ready to listen at last," the frog remarked. "Well then, I believe the world up there will one day belong to you."
"That is possible -- if your account is true," the nymph said, with a doubtful air.
"Little fellow," the frog exclaimed, "I know what I saw."
"And you really think that the glorious creature you describe was once a ..."
"Silence!" the frog cried. "I am not prepared to discuss the matter any further. Goodbye. It will soon be night, and I am returning to my grassy home on dry land. Go to rest, little fellow, and live in hope."
The frog swam to the bank and clambered up its side, while the nymph returned to his tribe which was already preparing to rest during the hours of darkness.
As the days passed, the inquisitive nymph began to feel different inside. His limbs grew tired, and a strange feeling came over him. The water, in which he had been born, now felt choking. Perhaps, after all, the frog had spoken the truth.
His friends and relations gathered round. Some were his age, but many were much younger. They asked him to promise that if there really was a world beyond their own, he would return and tell them so. The nymph readily agreed.
"But if you should forget!" one of the younger generation exclaimed, timid and uneasy.
"Forget the old home, my friend?" the nymph asked. "Forget our life of enjoyment here, the excitement of the chase for food, the triumph of success? Forget the feelings of hope and fear we have shared together? Impossible!"
"But you may not be able to come back to us," another nymph suggested.
"More unlikely still," the exhausted nymph murmured. "Goodbye, my friends, you need have no fears for me. I shall return and tell you all about the life out there."
"You will remember your promise?" one of his best friends called out.
"I will," he replied.
"Faithfully?" the first speaker urged.
"Solemnly."
The nymph sounded weak. Slowly he rose through the water to the reeds and bulrushes at the edge of the pond. Two favourite brothers and a few of his friends, more adventurous than the rest, went with him, hoping to see whatever might take place. But as the nymph climbed higher, they were disappointed.
Eyes made for the water were unable to see the world beyond. The little group returned in sorrow to the bottom of the pond.
The sun was high in the heavens when the dragonfly nymph departed from his friends, and they waited through the long hours of the day for his return -- first in hope, then in sadness as the shades of evening began to deepen.
"He has forgotten us," some cried.
"Something terrible and final has happened to him," others said.
"He will return to us yet," maintained the few who clung to hope.
But, in vain, messenger after messenger shot upwards to the foot of the bulrushes and to various parts of the pond, hoping to discover some trace of the lost nymph. All returned in sorrow.
When day came, and the sun sent its rays of light to the bottom of the pond, the nymphs awoke in bitter disappointment. The frog had not told the truth.
"We used to get along perfectly well without thinking about such things," they said. "But to have such great hopes held out, and to be deceived by the frog -- it is more than we can be expected to bear."
Then, with rage that nothing could hold back, they chased their prey with a terrible anger in their search for food.
By the end of the second day they decided to stop grieving openly for the one they had loved, but on the morning of the third day one of the nymph's favourite brothers joined his companions as they were preparing to start their daily life of searching for food. They noticed that his eyes stood out as they had never stood out before.
"My friends," he said, "I was, as you know, one of our lost relative's favourite brothers. I trusted him, but he has not returned to us."
The favourite brother paused, and a group in a corner murmured among themselves, "Why has he not returned? The story about that other world must be false."
"He has not returned to us," the favourite brother repeated, "but, my friends, I believe I am going to him, to that new life he spoke about. Something is making me want to go upwards, ever upwards. Before I leave you, I make the same solemn promise he made to you. Should the great hope be true, we will both come back and tell you so. Goodbye."
The nymph rose through the water, followed by the last of his brothers and one or two of the younger nymphs. On reaching the edge of the pond he caught hold of a reed, and clinging to its firm stalk he clambered into the open air.
The others watched as he left the water. But, after that, they saw him no more. They sank down, sad and uneasy, to their home below.
The hours of the day passed as before, and not a trace of the departed one was seen. For a time they held to the words he had spoken, the promise he had made. Their hope died with the setting sun, and many a voice was raised against his lack of love.
"He is faithless," some said.
"He has forgotten us, just like his brother did," cried others.
"The story about that other world is false," repeated the group in the corner.
Only a few said to each other, "We will not despair."
Another day passed and then, in the early dawn following, the third and last brother crept slowly to a sleepy group of his friends.
"Look at my eyes," he said. "Has a change come over them? To me, they feel swollen and bursting, and the world here looks cloudy and unclear. Some power I cannot see is driving me upwards, as the others were driven. Listen, then. Let the other world be what it will -- gorgeous beyond all we can imagine, blissful beyond all we can hope for -- I will not forget you. If it is possible, I shall return. Farewell!"
And he too went up through the cool water of the pond to the plants that bordered its side. Then, from the leaf of a golden king-cup he clambered into the world of air, into which a nymph's eye never could pierce.
His companions stayed near the spot where he had disappeared, but neither sight nor sound came to them. Only the great sense of loss reminded them that he had once been there with them.
Then followed hours of waiting, more disappointment, cruel doubts, and hope mixed with despair. And after this, day by day other nymphs left the pond.
But among those who were left, the result was always the same. There were some who doubted and feared, some who disbelieved and made fun, and others who hoped and looked forward without worry.
If those eyes that worked so well under the water could have seen into the pure air above the pond, what a lifetime of anxiety many would have been spared. What peace, what joy could have been theirs.
And what of the first dragonfly nymph? Was he really faithless, as they thought? When he burst from his old body by the waterside and rose on glittering wings into the summer air, had he forgotten the ones so recently left behind? Had he no feelings for their griefs and fears? No memory of the promise he had made?
Far from it. He thought of them during the excitement of his wildest flights, and returned time after time to the edge of the pond that had once been the only world he knew. But now he could never return to the water.
The least touch on its surface as he skimmed over it brought on a deadly shock, like the shock he had experienced as a nymph on reaching the air on the back of the frog.
"Alas for the promise I made in ignorance, miserable nymph that I was," became his constantly repeated cry.
And thus apart, yet joined by love, he hovered above the barrier of water that lay between them, always hoping that he would see his family and friends come into sight.
To his delight, he was there to welcome the brother who followed him, and the brother who followed so
on after that -- not to a strange and friendless place, but to a home rich with welcome from those who had gone before.
And today, in the breezy air by the woodland pond, on a bright summer afternoon you can hear the clashing of dragonflies' wings, as now backwards, now forwards, now to one side, now to another, they dart over the crystal water in the adventure of their new life.
Epilogue
Like the nymph not trusting the frog, maybe we sometimes wonder if Heaven really exists. Has anyone ever returned from the dead to tell us about it? Yes, Jesus has. If we could see that new life now, think how excited we would be. But with our human bodies, how much would we understand -- even if such a thing were possible? Even though we cannot understand everything, Jesus, the Son of God, has promised to take us to Heaven one day in perfect safety.
Some Bible verses:
[ Paul is writing this letter while many of the people who saw Jesus after His death are still alive.] For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas [Peter], then to the twelve.
After that He appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep; then He appeared to James, then to all the apostles. (1 Corinthians 15:3-7)
[Jesus said] "Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also. (John 14:1-3)
In the hope of eternal life, which God, who cannot lie, promised long ages ago. (Titus 1:2)
AGATHOS
Original story by Samuel Wilberforce
There once was a mighty king whose country was troubled by a fierce and deadly dragon. The king called his soldiers together, to send them to the place where the creature was causing so much trouble.
"You must be prepared to fight this dragon," he told his soldiers. "The prince, who is my son, has already fought with him and defeated him, even though he put forth all his rage and power against him. However, the dragon is not yet dead, and is still able to cause trouble. My strength shall go with you in battle, but you must always be on the lookout for danger."
The soldiers turned to each other but they felt no fear, for they trusted their king for everything.
"If you remember my words and call on my name in times of danger, I will be with you," the king promised. "Look, I have provided armour for you. Wear it boldly, and the dragon can never harm you. But if he finds you unprepared -- if he attacks when you are not wearing this armour -- he will certainly harm you. He may even defeat you."
The soldiers promised to be on their guard, and they set off in high spirits into the land where the dragon lay.
At first they were extremely careful to wear their armour. They never all slept at once, arranging for some to watch while others rested. It was a fine sight to see the king's soldiers marching up and down the land in their shining armour, and the people of the country felt safe because they were keeping guard.
Every morning the sleeping men would wake refreshed. Putting on their armour most carefully they called to their prince to keep them safe and loyal. Then they would go out to keep guard against the dragon, while their comrades came off duty to rest.
This was indeed a splendid sight, but alas it did not last. Never once did the soldiers see the dragon, and everything went on quietly around them. The farmers ploughed the land; the reapers went about to reap the harvest; there were marriages and feasts, and games and work.
The soldiers began to think that perhaps the story of the dragon was just that -- a story. So they forgot their king's instructions to watch and stand fast. The weather grew hotter, and their armour seemed to grow heavier by the day.
"What is the use of this helmet?" one of them complained. "The sun heats it up until it scorches my head."
"You are right," a friend agreed. "Besides, no one ever sees this enemy. I'm leaving my helmet in the camp. There will be time enough to fetch it if I ever see the dragon coming."
Another soldier complained of the weight of his breastplate, and refused to wear it. Yet another decided that his shield was such a nuisance that he would put it in his tent -- where he could surely reach it quickly in time of danger.
The thick sandals made the soldiers' feet uncomfortable. Finally they left them off and walked barefoot. It was pleasant to feel the soft earth beneath their feet.
Before long, the soldiers were walking around the countryside with little of their armour to be seen. Their cool clothes were more sensible than those the king had provided -- so they told each other.
Some went to this feast, while others went to that. It was hard to tell that the soldiers belonged to the king, for they could no longer be recognized by their armour.
But one soldier refused to change his ways. His name was Agathos. It saddened Agathos to see his comrades living so carelessly. Often he warned them that the enemy must surely be near, even though they never saw him.
"We know our prince fought the evil creature," he said. "So surely the king knows how dangerous this enemy can be."
The other soldiers laughed at Agathos but he put up with their taunts, and neither their harsh words nor the hot sun made him weary. There was nothing anyone could do to make him take off the king's armour. At times his feet felt sore within his heavy sandals, but he knew they must have been given for a good reason. At other times he felt like sleeping when it was his turn to watch at night, but Agathos did what he had to do. He trusted the king and knew it was important to be ready at all times.
As the months passed, things became more and more difficult for Agathos. The words of his idle companions grew harsher as they became more and more certain that the dragon would never attack -- if it existed at all.
But just when they thought themselves safe, the danger was suddenly at hand. One of the soldiers was returning to the camp from a great feast where there had been much merriment. He had earlier decided his armour would be most unsuitable for the evening, and was now walking home in his own clothing through the pleasant evening air.
The soldier was thinking about the party that had just broken up. He pitied Agathos who was not able to forget the king even for one moment. As these thoughts ran through his mind, he heard a rustling in the trees by the side of the path. As quick as lightning the terrible form of the dragon stood before him.
Terror stricken, the soldier felt for the sharp sword the king had given him -- but of course it was no longer at his side. There was nothing to help him now. As the soldier turned to run, he realised the dragon had covered the ground with sharp darts -- and he had left the king's sandals in the camp. The soldier fell to the ground, and the beast leapt on top of him.
Later that night two of his closest friends set out to look for him in the darkness, thinking he had perhaps lost his way. They neither wore their armour nor remembered the words of the king, for they knew nothing of the danger that was at hand. They, too, did not return to the camp, but the other soldiers continued to feast and enjoy themselves, and did not miss them until the morning.
The dragon was now gaining courage. It was afraid of the king, but these soldiers were not as dangerous as it had imagined they would be. It even thought of attacking the camp straight away, and destroying all the soldiers at once.
Then to the dragon's dismay, Agathos took his turn at keeping guard. The dragon retreated to the wood that bordered the camp, uncertain what to do. It could see the sharp sword hanging by the side of Agathos, and the huge shield with the bright red cross on it hung over his shoulder. It remembered his battle with the prince, and began to tremble as it decided to stay hidden.
The next morning Agathos had finished his turn of duty and was s
leeping in his tent. Other soldiers were on guard, but the dragon had no fear of them. With a mighty roar it rushed from the cover of the wood and attacked them tooth and nail. It tore at some with its cruel claws, it bit others with its sharp teeth, while still others it stung with lashes from its poisonous tail.
One soldier managed to reach his sword and lunged at the dragon, but because he had no helmet the dragon let its heavy claws crash down on the man's head.
Another soldier had found his sword and his helmet by this time. He was able to fight longer than the first, and wounded the dragon in its side. The outraged creature swung its tail at the soldier, and because the man was wearing no armour, the sting penetrated and poisoned his body, leaving him seriously wounded.
Another man rushed from his tent. He seemed to be well armed, but in his hurry he had forgotten to pick up his shield. This soldier began to attack the dragon bravely. He wounded the creature in its neck and in one of its legs. Try as it could, the dragon could not get a hold on the man. Its claws kept slipping off soldier's helmet, and its sting was useless against the armour.
Suddenly, just as the soldier was pausing to rest, the enemy hurled a cluster of fiery darts. The sword was no defence against these, but the shield, left behind in his tent, would have protected him. Nursing his wounds, the soldier staggered back to the camp to fight no more.
The next soldier to attack was well prepared with his shield. But because the day was hot, he had not properly fastened the armour on his body. The dragon swept the soldier's shield and breastplate aside with its powerful claws, and this man too fell as the darts struck home. Other soldiers, without sandals on their feet, fell injured as they trod on the fiery darts that were strewn across the ground.
Some soldiers refused to come out of their tents, shaking with fear when they saw the wounds their companions had suffered. By now the enemy was attacking with increasing strength. Soon, it thought to itself, it would be able to get right into the camp and make the king's entire army helpless.