Once upon a time in a quiet little village, there lived a
kind-hearted man named Arlo. Arlo was a gentle soul who tended to his small
garden and crafted wooden toys for the children in the neighborhood. He lived
next door to Brutus, a towering, gruff man with a reputation for being the
village bully. Brutus was loud, brash, and had a habit of taking whatever he
wanted—whether it was borrowing Arlo’s tools without asking or plucking
vegetables from Arlo’s Garden uninvited. To Arlo, it felt like Brutus was
always looming over him, casting a shadow on his peaceful life.
Despite his rough exterior, Brutus wasn’t entirely
heartless. Deep down, in a quiet corner of his mind, he sometimes wondered if
he could strike a deal with Arlo—maybe trade some of his firewood for Arlo’s
vegetables instead of just taking them. But pride and habit kept him from
saying it out loud, and so the bullying continued.
One sunny afternoon, after Brutus had once again trampled
through Arlo’s Garden and left with an armful of carrots, Arlo sat on his
porch, frustrated. He couldn’t take it anymore. But instead of confronting
Brutus, a strange idea popped into his head. “What if I go far away,” Arlo
thought, “to the kingdom of Calindra, and tell Prince Cedric about this?
Surely, a wise prince could help me figure out how to stop Brutus.”
So, Arlo packed a small bag, grabbed his walking stick, and
set off on the long journey to Calindra. The road was dusty, his feet ached,
and by the time he reached the grand castle, he was exhausted but hopeful. He
requested an audience with Prince Cedric and, after a long wait, was finally
granted a few minutes to speak.
“Your Highness,” Arlo said, bowing awkwardly, “I come from a village far away. My neighbor, Brutus, is a bully. He takes my things, stomps through my garden, and makes my life miserable. I don’t know what to do.”
Prince Cedric, perched on his throne, stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, a troublesome neighbor, you say. I’ve no authority over your village, but perhaps I could send a letter to Duchess Daphne in the next kingdom over. She’s known for her clever ideas. She might advise you.”
Arlo thanked the prince and waited as a royal messenger
carried the story to Duchess Daphne. Days later, a response arrived: “Tell this
Arlo, “The duchess wrote, “to seek out Elder Dorian in the eastern hills. He’s
a wise old man who once tamed a rowdy village with his words alone.”
So, Arlo trudged onward to the eastern hills, his sandals
wearing thin. When he finally found Elder Dorian, a wiry old man with a twinkle
in his eye, he poured out his tale once more. Dorian listened patiently, then
chuckled. “You’ve come a long way, lad, to tell me about a neighbor you
could’ve just talked to yourself.”
Arlo blinked. “Talk to Brutus? But he’s a bully! He’d never listen.”
“Perhaps,” Dorian said, leaning on his staff. “But you’ll
never know unless you try. You’ve spent weeks traveling to me, to Cedric, to
Daphne—yet Brutus is still back home, doing as he pleases. What if, instead of
running to others, you sat down with him? Bullies often bluster because they
don’t know another way. Give him a chance to show what’s in that heart of his.”
Arlo felt a pang of realization. He’d been so focused on
escaping his problem that he hadn’t considered facing it. Thanking Dorian, he
turned back toward home, his mind buzzing with a new plan.
When Arlo arrived in the village, he found Brutus chopping
wood in his yard. Gathering his courage, Arlo called out, “Brutus, can we
talk?”
Brutus paused, axe in hand, and squinted at him. “What’s
this about, then?”
“I’m tired of you taking my things,” Arlo said, his voice
steady. “But I don’t want to fight. How about we make a deal? You’ve got
firewood, I’ve got vegetables. We could trade instead of all this trouble.”
For a moment, Brutus looked surprised. Then, slowly, a grin
spread across his face—not a mean one, but something almost relieved. “Trade,
eh? Could’ve said that sooner. I’ve got no use for bad blood. Firewood for
carrots sounds fair.”
And so, Arlo and Brutus sat down that very afternoon,
hashing out an agreement over a pot of tea. It wasn’t perfect, and Brutus still
had his rough edges, but the bullying stopped. Arlo realized that all the miles
he’d traveled to Cedric, Daphne, and Dorian had only delayed what he could’ve
done from the start: sit at a table with Brutus and talk it out.
In the end, Arlo learned a simple truth—sometimes the
longest journey isn’t the one that takes you far away, but the short step
toward the person right next door.
Now if you made it so far ...... you might have guessed it
right and I just will leave a hint here with this last image and leave the rest
of thoughts in your head to wonder where the story took you and why ....
Stay Figgy,
The Figured Figs Team 🌱
Disclaimer: “This article is for informational purposes only and does not constitute financial, investment, legal, or tax advice. Readers are encouraged to consult a licensed professional before making any financial decisions."
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