It all began with a peaceful walk in a field. By chance, I came across a huge expanse of spring grass and wildflowers that seemed to go on forever, so I had to explore it. I walked through the field for about twenty minutes without seeing anything but colorful flowers and knee high grass from horizon to horizon. Then, in the distance, I saw something that broke the line of color--a dark shape amid the grass.

I moved toward the shape and it turned out to be a man, sitting in the field, smiling up at me. He was a thin, older fellow, sitting peacefully with his legs crossed and his hands folded in his lap. As I came upon him, he greeted me.

"Good day," he said. I nodded and bid him a good day as well, as he continued to smile that contented smile. "Have you come far?" he asked.

"Just from up the road," I answered and then realized that I could no longer see the road from where we were in the field. "What about yourself?"

"Oh, I've been here for quite some time now," he told me, "just enjoying the view."

I admitted that the view was quite spectacular and very peaceful, as well. We shared a few moments of quiet thought together, the only sounds we heard were the wind whispering through the grass and the lazy buzzing of insects as they explored the fragrant flowers.

"As long as you're here," the old man said, "would you mind doing me a favor?"

I looked down at him for a moment, wondering what might be on his mind, but could see no harm in offering him some assistance. "I suppose I could do that," I told him.

He got to his feet and moved a little to his left and I saw something lying nearly hidden in the grass. As he bent and attempted to lift the object, I moved over to help him. It turned out to be an old, wooden ladder, at least eight feet tall and much weathered by exposure to the elements. It was also quite heavy.

"You need help moving this somewhere?" I asked.

"Actually, I would appreciate it if you would just hold it upright for me," he said, once we got the ladder off the ground and standing straight up.