Joseph was the fastest, strongest and handsomest boy in his entire village—and he knew it. His egotistical banter flowed as a steady stream of boastfulness. His accomplishments were more than modest, but Joseph only found fulfillment with constant validation. However, he soon realized people grew weary of his tales, so he began to embellish the details. His overstatements soon turned to exaggerations and, eventually became complete fabrications. He bragged of wrestling sea monsters although he’d never seen one. He told of scaling mountains although he’d never been outside of the town.
One foggy day, Joseph was bragging to some locals about his latest conquest when an old woman frantically ran toward him. She breathlessly explained her granddaughter Emily was stuck in a tree on a nearby island. The log bridge had been swept away with the tide and Emily had climbed the tree to escape the rising water and she knew Joseph was the only person in town who could swim.
“Please, will you help my Emily,” she pleaded.
Joseph, confident of his abilities, agreed to rescue the child.
“Bring me to her. Surely I can save her,” he bellowed.
Joseph, along with a gaggle of curious onlookers, ventured to the shore at the edge of town. The tree was one he’d never seen before and stood alone on a small island, separated from the town by a wide, rapid river. The tree leaves extended above the clouds into daunting obscurity. This was no ordinary plant, but an enchanted one, that much was sure.
Joseph made every effort to conceal his fear and carefully swam to the island with encouragement from the cheering crowd and began ascending the trunk. The trek was difficult and seemed to stretch for miles, surely a much easier climb for a girl with tiny feet and small stature.
“Help!” a distant whisper called down to Joseph. “Please!”
Emily’s whimpering cries and Joseph’s heartbeat grew louder and louder. Joseph spotted her clinging to a narrow tree branch. He was too bulky to scale the branch, so he reached out to the girl.
“Give me your hand!” Joseph yelled.
But Emily just shook her head and covered her eyes.
A rare thought occurred to Joseph: He needed help. A boost, or a rope would be just enough to reach Emily. He could find a boat and bring over some other men to help.
“No,” he thought, “I have to do this myself or everyone will think me a coward.”
Rather than risk his reputation, Joseph climbed onto the branch. His weight was too much—the branch snapped. Joseph quickly grasped an adjacent branch, but it was too late for Emily. He watched in horror as she fell from the treetop and was swept under by the waters below. He dived into the water to save her, but Emily was nowhere to be found.
The foliage and fog had obscured what had happened from the onlooking villagers. Joseph knew he couldn’t admit the truth.
“Those people believed I’ve slain dragons, how will they understand what has happened?” he thought aloud.
Humiliated and prideful, Joseph climbed up the tree again until he reached its peak. He stayed there until nightfall, once the last of the confused villagers had returned home. In the distance, he saw Emily’s grandmother crying.
He could not face the shame that night and decided to remain in the forest to concoct a compelling story. Joseph pitched a hammock, but found no rest. He tossed and turned until he eventually fell into a sleep-like state. In a vision, he saw Emily. Her eyes were no longer fearful, but calm and purposeful.
“I forgive you, Joseph,” she whispered. “I can see goodness in your heart, but it is hidden under arrogance that I will help you escape.” A startling sunrise awakened Joseph from his dream, although he felt he hadn’t slept a wink.
The next morning, he climbed down the tree and made his way back into town. The villagers rushed toward him, eager to learn of Emily’s whereabouts. Joseph began to explain his ruse.
“I had rescued Emily from the tree when a sea monster snatched us and took us to its underwater lair. I was able to escape, but not after the beast killed the poor girl.”
The naive and sympathetic townspeople believed the tale, but as soon as the words left Joseph’s mouth, something felt different. He had projected the story with fortitude, yet the words came out at a weak volume.
Later, Joseph went to the tavern and insisted on telling a story about how he had once outran a pack of wolves. However, once again, his words were faint.
This continued throughout the day until Joseph has a painful realization: Every time he lied his voice became fainter. He was simultaneously baffled and infuriated.
“How could this be?” he wondered. “What’s happening to me?”
It was then he realized his dream was not a dream at all. Emily had cursed him somehow. Any sympathy he felt for her evaporated and was replaced by uncontrollable rage.
From that point on, he tried to be truthful, but the lies seemed to escape his lips before he had time to stop them. Eventually, his voice became so soft that his audience could barely understand him. He felt his lies forming a prison he couldn’t escape, so he decided to retreat to the forest and live the rest of his days in quiet solitude.
Decades later, he returned to the village as an old, transformed man. He had learned the value of honesty and simplicity and was no longer resentful, but immensely grateful for his curse. It had been nearly 50 years since that fateful day and now he was dying. Joseph made his way to the enchanted tree where Emily had died years ago and laid a bouquet of roses at the roots.
He closed his eyes and whispered, “I have no greater accomplishment than the humility you taught me.”
And with his final breath, Joseph smiled peacefully, knowing he would see Emily again soon and have the opportunity to thank her.
