Each day found Ham either making something for his journey, or thinking of what he needed.
Consider… the Huddlers of Dusk did the same things, day after day. They lived the same way as their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents. The chicken plucker came from a long line of chicken pluckers. The farmers came from long lines of farmers. And the water bag maker came from a long line of water bag makers.
Ham’s long line was starting to look like a drunken snake wandering along a bumpy path, going this way and that, looping about and finding its way without any seeming purpose. But the purpose was there. Ham was on a journey from here to somewhere.
Each twist and loop and bump in Ham’s path resulted in something he needed for his journey…
A pack for his food.
Something to sleep in.
Something to keep the rain off.
Extra clothes.
A pack to carry it all in.
After a few weeks of preparation, Ham realized that the picture in his head had changed. No longer did he see himself in just the clothes on his back trudging along a dusty dirt track into the hazy unknown. Now he saw himself walking erect, with his head up, his pack on his back, his water bag slung over his shoulder, and his eyes pointed straight ahead.
In just those few weeks, Ham had found something new within himself. He knew that it came from his vision and the gift of that stray and unexpected bump of sunlight, and he knew that it was all about his determination to find the man in his vision.
During those weeks, Ham had learned the skills and knowledge of others. This was not bad – there were no rules against learning the skills and knowledge of others. It was just different. It just wasn’t done in the village of Dusk in the land of Dank.
The other Huddlers of Dusk had become uncomfortable. They began to mumble and grumble to each other a bit more each day.
“Ham did what?”
“…see what Ham made?”
“Ham said what?”
Through this time, Ham found that he had one absolute gift – certainty.
Certainty is a remarkable thing, especially when based on belief. The object of that belief doesn’t matter, so much as the fact of that belief. And Ham had it.
