the lost brother –

THE LOST BROTHER

and other tales

THE LOST
Have you ever heard of the Land of Many Tracks
where people live in railway carriages instead of
houses and where they are always hooking up their
carriages to this or that engine, for they have forgot-

BROTHER
ten that they themselves have an engine?
If only they could find it and follow the golden track!

Stories from the youth work of the School of the Golden Rosycross
And what is it like living in a zeppelin; one of those
funny-shaped air-balloons that float high in the sky?
Or have you ever wished you were a knight with a
sword and shield, but no…, there is no point in pursu-
ing that dream, is there? Will prince Felix ever find and other tales
his best friend and who will become King if he does?
Where did the mysterious horse come from the desert
children discover high up on the rock one morning?
And what about the curious book in the castle library?
And what exactly is a pebbleman?
The children in these tales become increasingly more
aware of their small world and take responsible ac-
tion! Join in their wonderful adventures as they give
hope and warm the heart!

stories for children aged 5-9

stories from the youth work of

the School of the Golden Rosycross
Lectorium Rosicrucianum
Rozekruis Pers
THE LOST BROTHER
and
other tales
 Lectorium Rosicrucianum
Youth Work
Bakernessergracht 11
2011 JS Haarlem
The Netherlands
Illustrations: Zuzanna & Julia Grebla
Book design: Henk Flipsen for Rozekruis Pers
© 2019 Rozekruis Pers - Haarlem - The Netherlands
the lost brother
and
other tales

L e ct oriu m Rosicr

STORIES FROM THE YOUTH WORK OF

THE SCHOOL OF THE GOLDEN ROSYCROSS
LECTORIUM ROSICRUCIANUM

conferentieoord NO
Badweg 12
8085 rl Doornspijk
t 0525 65 91 10
f 0525 65 91 11
administratie@nove
abn amro 56.01.78.11

Suitable for children from 5 to 9

© 2019 Rozekruis Pers - Haarlem - The Netherlands

Contents

Foreword 5
Chapter 1 The Lost Brother 7
Chapter 2 The Lighthouse 15
Chapter 3 The Land of many Tracks 23
Chapter 4 The Concert 33
Chapter 5 The Bakery 41
Chapter 6 Ships 49
Chapter 7 The Temple 57
Chapter 8 The Zeppelin 65
Chapter 9 Knighthood 73
Chapter 10 The Land of the Sun 81
Chapter 11 Freedom 89
Chapter 12 The Wind Catcher 97
Glossary 104
Foreword

These stories created and written by the Youth Work of the School of the
Golden Rosycross are luminous symbols of the path human beings choose to
walk to return to the original life field of humanity.
Some stories are based on age-old tales from different cultures and originate
in various parts of the world, while others are created and written by young
people in whom the spirit-spark-atom, the original divine light spark is active,
or as the Rosicrucians express it: in whom the Rosebud has begun to flower.
All are scintillating reminders of the life-experiences that ultimately culmi-
nate in a deep inner knowledge that there is another life field and that the
path thereto does exists, yes, that the start to it lies deep in every human
being’s heart.

Children are young human beings whose open hearts are still receptive and
thus touched by these stories, a deep longing for that other, original life field
may be born. For such, these tales are rays of hope and joy.

In this volume we wish to share with all who are interested some of the treas-
ure trove of these tales.

‘Each human child comes with a goal

Into its earthly presence.
But the child’s longing of the heart
reveals this great goal’s essence.’

May the stories in this volume touch many hearts, young and old and remain
a beacon always.

Youth Work
Lectorium Rosicrucianum

5
chapter 1
The lost brother

R esting from their trip through the forest with their horses that morning,
Kieran and Felix were lying on the grass in the palace gardens. They had
left well before sunrise that morning, both of them feeling that there was
nothing quite as special as riding through the woods early in the morning be-
fore everyone else was up! They had ridden their horses for hours, taking the
path along the brook, over the small bridge, past the woodcutter’s log cabin
towards the open fields on the other side of the forest. Here, while enjoying a
packed breakfast, they had watched the sunrise.
On their way back home, the forest had slowly woken up; deer had been
drinking from the stream and rabbits had popped up everywhere. In the pal-
ace too, everyone had woken up and was now busy with the chores. Beds
were being aired, as were the rooms, and the ovens were heated. But Kieran
and Felix didn’t yet fancy the busy day before them and, as we just said, were
lying in the grass watching the clouds.
Although they were very different, Kieran and Felix were best friends. Felix
was quick, strong and sometimes a bit impatient. He was always looking for
adventure. Kieran was calm and very patient. He could tell beautiful stories
and Felix could listen to him for hours. They were always together Felix and
Kieran, Kieran and Felix. Well, that is how everything used to be!
Over the years, Kieran and Felix slowly grew apart. Often Felix was away from
home, travelling for weeks without sending word... These journeys were too
tiring for Kieran who stayed home and waited for his friend’s return. Then,

7
whenever Felix came home and told Kieran about his bold adventures, Kier-
an just smiled.
“What is the matter?” Felix asked one day, irritated, “Surely you are not jeal-
ous of me?” “I just miss how it used to be. We were aways together, you and
I. Don’t you remember?”
“Of course, I remember, but that was when we young. Now I am older, I want
to have adventures. I want to travel, do exciting things, you know…enjoy life,”
Felix answered. “And,” he thought, a bit ashamed of himself, “you do not really
fit into that...” But all this happened many years ago.
Felix has now grown into a tall, strong and bold young man. He is always busy!
If he is not tending his horses or visiting his friends Brandon, Garrick and
Casper, he is travelling.
And Kieran? Kieran has become weaker and weaker and never goes outside
anymore. Felix visits him less and less. Then, one day, he no longer remembers
Kieran!

It is now many years later...

“Prince Felix, would you like to joust?”
“But of course, you know me...,” Felix laughs as his friends approach him.
“Although..., I do not have that much time right now, for I have to go to an
important meeting concerning my forthcoming crowning as King,” he adds.
“Important, important...,” mumbles Brandon, “Can’t they hold off those
meetings until Prince Felix is ready?”
“We’re going to do a bit of jousting! That’s also important. Here, catch, your
sword,” grumbles Garrick.
Sword-fighting is one of Felix’s favourite sports and he follows his friends to
the jousting field. A short time later the joust is in full swing. Prince Felix is
one of the best players in the land, but his friends do not let him win so easily,
so it is an exciting competition. Felix wins in the end, but only by one point!
“Sorry boys, but I have to leave right now,” he says, panting from exertion
and, still red in the face, he sprints towards the palace. He is supposed to
attend an important meeting, remember!
A few weeks later the great day dawns.

8
In the palace and everywhere in the land people are celebrating because to-
day Prince Felix will be crowned king!
Felix himself is looking through a gap in the curtains and sees thousands and
thousands of people gathered in front of the palace. His friends Brandon,
Garrick and Casper are at the very front, waving flags and shouting: “Come
on, Felix! Come on!”
Felix has to laugh. For years he has looked forward to this moment, but now
he is feeling a little nervous. Skipping from one foot to the other, he rehearses
his speech.

“My subjects, today... No, I think I will call them ‘fellow citizens’,” he mumbles.
“Fellow citizens, today is a historic day. Yes, that sounds better.” And so, Felix
crosses the word ‘subjects’ out. Then there is a knock on the door…
“Prince Felix, are you ready?” Max, head of the royal household and master
of ceremony, puts his head around the door. Felix is taken aback. Is it time
already?
Max nods.
“Ok subjects, uh fellow citizen..., uh, sorry, I mean: almost Max, I’m almost
ready.” Max laughs. Felix, always so certain, is for once lost for words!
“I’m sure you’ll be doing just fine,” encourages Max, “you’ve prepared a great
speech.”
“Thank you, Max,” says Felix, “OK then, let’s get going.”
When the palace doors open, a great cheering erupts.
“Prince Felix, our new King!” the people are calling out happily. As Felix steps
forward onto the balcony the cheering increases. There is music and people
are clapping.
“Our King! Our King!” they are chanting.
Looking at all those happily cheering people, Felix suddenly asks himself, “Am
I really a King? What makes me King?”
But his thoughts are interrupted by a loud trumpet-sounding and everyone
becomes quiet. All are looking up to the balcony where the crowning will
now be taking place.
A servant approaches carrying a blue velvet cushion on which lies the crown.

9
The crown is made entirely of gold and studded with many sapphires.
Prince Felix bows his head and is crowned King.
Again, the people cheer and look expectantly to their new King. Max nods
encouragingly. Of course, the speech! Felix clears his throat.
“Fellow citizens, today is a historical day...”
The speech goes smoothly and when it is all over thunderous applause fol-
lows. Now he is King, now he is finally King! Felix has looked forward to this
moment for so long and yet he doesn’t feel entirely joyful...
“Am I really a true king?” The question keeps going through his head; it doesn’t
leave him. How strange!
One morning Felix wakes up so early that the sun hasn’t yet risen. He has
been dreaming; like he often does these days.
“Max, please cancel all meetings for today, I really do not feel well,” Felix says.
“Have you not slept well?” asks Max concerned, for he has noticed that King
Felix hasn’t been his usual self lately.
“I’ve had another dream, like last time,” answers Felix, “I dream again and
again that I am young and am playing in the palace gardens with my best
friend. We were always together, he and I. I can’t remember his name any-
more, but I do remember that he told me the most wonderful stories. Every
night, I dream one of these stories. They are stories full of light and joy, about
a country far from here, a land where no one quarrels and where there exists
no pain.”
“That sounds like a lovely dream,” Max says carefully, “strange you do not feel
well then...”
“Yes, they are lovely dreams,” Felix sighs deeply, “but because of these dreams,
I miss my friend! If only I could remember his name, then maybe I could go
looking for him.” Deep in thought, Felix looks out of the window.

“You know what? I will go for a ride in the forest and get some fresh air, that
does one some good!”
“Yes,” responds Max hopefully, “that’s a good idea; surely you will feel better
for it.”
Soon afterwards, Felix is riding through the palace gardens towards the

10
woods. As by chance, he follows the path along the brook, over the small
bridge, past the woodcutter’s cabin towards the open fields on the other side
of the forest. Just as he reaches the open field, he sees the sun appear above
the horizon.
He has seen that before. All of a sudden, he feels a stabbing pain in his heart.
“Kieran”, he whispers, “your name is Kieran! Now I remember!”
The next day, King Felix calls all his ministers together for a special meeting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention? I wish to start a search
throughout the country for my best friend. His name is Kieran. I lost contact
with him and haven’t seen him in years. It is very important and thus, no cost
or effort must be spared. Do you understand?” The ministers nod and make
notes. That same day the search begins. Lots of posters are printed and put
up everywhere in the country. A reward is promised to the person who will
offer a useful clue that leads to finding Kieran. Every day, King Felix asks his
ministers to tell him about the state of affairs so far. At first, Felix is full of
hope that
Kieran will soon be found, but as the days pass, the King becomes more and
more doubtful. In the beginning, ideas come in almost every day, but Felix
soon realises that the people with the ideas are after the reward and do not
even know Kieran.
“Does he actually exist?” a disappointed Felix asks himself one day when he is
wandering aimlessly through the palace, “Maybe I just imagined him?”
“His stories though, I couldn’t have invented them, could I? Maybe I am not
looking for Kieran in the right manner.” Without realising it, Felix has come to
a part of the palace where he hasn’t been for quite some time. A door is ajar
somewhere and he hears coughing. Who could that be? Felix knocks on the
door and hears a friendly voice call, “Come in!”
A man is sitting on a bed. It is difficult to guess his age. He looks rather pale,
but apart from that seems healthy enough.

“Who are you?” asks Felix, surprised that someone he doesn’t know lives in
his palace.
“Don’t you recognise me?” asks the man, “It’s me, Kieran.”

11
“K-Kieran?” stammers Felix, “is that really you?”
Kieran laughs. “Of course, it’s really me!”
Felix hugs his friend tightly. For a moment he is lost for words. So many things
happen inside him and all at once: shame that he had forgotten about his
friend for so long; yet also the joy that he has finally found him again.
“I am sorry, really sorry! How could I ever have forgotten you? I am so sorry!”
Kieran nods. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, “I was certain that sooner or later
you would come looking for me. We have always remained linked together,
didn’t you know that?” Felix looks at Kieran, a question on his lips
“Not only were we best friends, but our bond is also much stronger,” Kieran
says.
“What do you mean?” asks Felix. But then a memory comes back to him,
which falls into place like the piece of a puzzle. Felix feels his eyes starting to
sting with tears.
“You are my brother, my very dear brother,” Kieran says quietly. Felix nods, he
knows it is true. That is why they used to live in the palace together and that
is why he has missed Kieran as if he had lost part of himself.

“Would you like me to tell you a story?” asks Kieran. Again, Felix nods and so
Kieran begins his story, just like he used to, about a King in a land without
strife. It is a beautiful story and when it is finished Felix suddenly knows with
certainty what he must do. He bows his head, takes off his crown and asks,
“Kieran, Prince Kieran, will you be my King?”

12
chapter 2
The lighthouse

I n Dune Village, brightly coloured houses are built in steps against one side
of the dune. From the sea, they are invisible. The dune is so high that to
climb it a staircase with hundred steps has been built against it on both sides.
If you stand at the top of the high dune, you can look out over the houses of
Dune Village and see the stretch of sand that ends where the forest begins
while on the other side you can see the coastline, the beach and the sea with
the boats in the distance.
This morning, however, there is such a thick fog you cannot see more than a
couple of meters in front of you, but you can hear the sounds belonging to
the coast; the cry of a gull, the murmur of the waves and hey, what is that?
Do you also hear footsteps on the wooden stairs?
Holding fast to the handrail, Mat and Bob come running down the hundred
steps to the beach as quickly as they can.
“Hey, Mat, is it wise to go on the beach in this fog?” asks Bob.
“The fog will disappear soon enough, you’ll see,” answers Mat. “You will soon
be able to see the glow of the campfire of the beach guard in the distance.
You can always rely on that. If we go in that direction, we won’t get lost. Don’t
forget, we promised Myra and Liam to help pile up the driftwood. I wonder if
they are already waiting for us over there?”
“Yes, look here!” Bob says as they arrive at the bottom of the stairs. “See those
fresh footprints in the sand. No doubt they are Myra’s and Liam’s!”
The two boys decide to follow the trail of footsteps. It runs towards the sea.

15
Where the surf throws the waves onto the beach, the trail turns to the left
and the track continues in a zigzag pattern. It is as if the waves that roll to
and fro have played tag with Myra and Liam. Bob and Mat shriek with laugh-
ter and also a bit of fright as they run away from a huge wave that suddenly
comes towards them out of the fog. The children walk close by the sea fol-
lowing the movement of the waves. Meanwhile, through the fog, they keep
the glow of the campfire well in sight.
After a while, the fog begins to lift a little and a watery sun tries to break
through. In the distance, they see the outline of the dunes on the beach. A
little further on, the track turns away from the sea in the direction of the
dune and now the footprints crisscross the beach and disappear into the
dune. Now Bob and Mat are getting closer, they can see the dunes better.
There is a stack of large debris, there are piles of small pieces of driftwood all
sorted according to their shape and colour and there are also several piles of
shells, marine ropes, fishing nets and quite a bit of rubbish. The stacks are so
high you can climb them. It is impossible to imagine what can be found at
the bottom of these stacks for the discoveries are buried year after year by a
new layer of discoveries.
Now the coastline makes a sharp turn. This stretch of beach is their favourite
place. More treasures are thrown onto this stretch of beach by the strong
currents than at any other place along the coast. Because the current is ex-
tremely strong here, it is forbidden to swim in this part of the sea. Therefore,
the beach guard is always present to ensure the safety of everyone. He is just
adding more wood to his fire. Yes, the beach guard always makes sure the
beach fire keeps burning! Today the sea has left more interesting finds on the
beach than usual. They are in luck! Meanwhile, the fog has almost entirely
lifted.
Suddenly Liam and Myra emerge from behind a large pile. They are carrying
a large piece of driftwood between them. The salty seawater has discoloured
the wood to a greyish hue. It is smooth and there are no sharp edges. The
children carry one end each and dump it on a large amount of flotsam.
“Wow, that is a big piece!” says Mat. Bob and Mat also start to comb the
beach for washed up debris. Some pieces of wood still have rusty old nails in

16
them which the children try to remove with large pliers. They collect the nails
in large glass jars and put them in the cupboards at the back of the beach
guard’s hut.
Did the beach guard ever tell you about the tidal wave?
Long ago, a huge tidal wave took everything that was dear to the people. It is
the reason they had retreated to the forest behind the beach. The high dune
was created by the people who had piled up an enormous number of logs
from the forest and had covered them with layers of sand. Stiff beach grass
grew over it, so the dune became very firm. So the people built their own
protection against the sea that sometimes could be so fierce and so wild!
When the dune was high enough, they built their houses against it. And so,
Dune Village was born. Since the great tidal wave, the people attach much
value to their things, especially when they are washed up from the sea. They
cherish them as gifts, as a reminder of what once was. They throw nothing
away because it can always come in handy. However, despite the importance
the people attach
to the driftwood and other flotsam and jetsam, no one is surprised that the
beach guard uses driftwood to sustain his campfire whether it’s clear or fog-
gy, light or dark, hot or cold. In fact, no one has ever known his fire to go out!
The beach guard is always ready to put the kettle on to make a pot of tea.
Then, while drinking tea the children often listen to his stories.
Why does the lifeguard think the fire to be so important?
“Come and look!” Liam says, showing them a thick, round piece of glass. “I
just found this in the large pile of driftwood over there. If you look through
it, you see everything magnified and if you turn it around, you see everything
smaller and further away!” Myra, Mat and Bob come closer to have a prop-
er look. They take turns with it. Myra holds up a shell and they can see the
beautiful mother of pearl lining inside even better. When she hands the glass
back to Liam, a ray of light reflects in it. It is then that the children notice that
if Liam moves his hand while he holds the glass in the sunlight, somewhere
in the distance a light reflects, flying back and forth over one of the piles of
rubbish.
Sometime later they sit around the beach guard’s campfire. Four steaming

17
mugs are ready for them. The beach guard himself is looking around near one
of the piles of rubble. Again, Liam catches a ray of light on the piece of glass
and lets it move across the beach.
“If you found this beautiful piece of glass between the rubble, what other
treasures might there be in those mountains of rubbish?” Myra wonders.
“True,” answers Mats “we are always trying to find a place for new pieces that
wash up on the beach, but actually, I’m quite curious what there is in those
stacks of stuff that are already there!”
“How about us going back tomorrow to move the stack of large driftwood, so
we can have a look at the bottom layers?” Bob suggests.
“Maybe we’ll find more treasures like this one,” laughs Liam.
“You know what might be a better idea?” Myra says. “Let’s not just move
things from one place to another, let’s make something out of it, something
useful.”
“Yes,” Mat agrees, “let’s see if there is suitable timber to build a cabin, like the
one the beach guard has.”
The next day the children climb on top of an enormous pile of driftwood.
They start dragging pieces off the top and putting them in a different place.
The pieces of wood that are suitable as timber and boards for a cabin they
lay aside separately. After a while they have only a small pile of what they can
really use and the large mountain of driftwood does not seem to have shrunk
much.
“At this rate, we will never finish!” grumbles Bob.
“Indeed,” Myra replies, “but remember, it’s not just about the cabin. It is also
about what we find in the pile!”
“Look, this piece of wood looks like some antlers!” Mat suddenly exclaims.
“And that piece there just looks like the face of a monkey. Let’s keep these
pieces separate, “suggests Bob.
“All right,” agrees Liam “but I can hardly wait till we can start building.”
Then two children join them.
“Hey, what are you doing?” asks one of them.
“Can we help?” the other one asks.
“Yes!” Myra and Liam call simultaneously, “We sure can use some help!”

18
“What are you doing?” the newcomers ask.
“We are looking for suitable wood to make a cabin while we are curious about
what is hidden in this huge pile! We are hoping to find more treasures, like
this piece of glass and beautiful pieces of wood there,” Liam explains, holding
up the piece of thick round glass.
In the days that follow more children come to help. Liam suddenly sees
something glittering. He lifts a large piece of wood so that he has a better
look. Now the others see it too.
“Look!” says Bob, “A very large piece of glass, it looks like a window!” It’s the
strangest window that the children have ever seen. It’s large and heavy. And
if you look through it, it seems to distort everything. It looks like a kind of
super magnifying glass.
“Let us put it to one side. Can you all get hold of it?” asks Mat. “Only together
we can lift and move it.”
The group of helping children grows day by day. They find three more pieces
that look like windows and also a large stone dish. With so many helping
hands, they are getting much faster to the bottom layers of the pile. The
amount of usable timber grows bigger and bigger.
When finally, they have come to the bottom of the enormous pile of drift-
wood and other stuff and all that can now be seen is sand, they decide to take
a break and go and bake bread in the ash of the campfire.
A while later, when sitting around the fire together and enjoying the delicious
freshly baked rolls, Liam remarks that he looks forward to building the cabin.
“A cabin?” exclaims Mat. “By now, we have enough wood to build a whole
tower!” The children laugh. Yes, they will build a tower, they all agree. So Liam,
Myra, Mat and Bob ask the beach guard if he is willing to look at all the mate-
rial they have put aside for building. They also show him the windows.
“But these are the old windows of the lighthouse!” he exclaims, his eyes light-
ing up with gladness at the sight of them and he begins to tell them about
the past.
In the place where they are standing now a lighthouse once stood.
“You are going to build a real tower? Well, then you can put these windows
at the top of the tower. So, you have a great view. That stone dish you found,

19
you can put in the middle of the room and use as a fire pit, so your tower
can become a real lighthouse! Since the lighthouse disappeared with the tidal
wave, I have always kept my campfire burning to show people the way in the
dark and during storms and fog. The light of my campfire cannot reach very
far, yet I did what I could. If you build a real lighthouse, the light can shine
much further, so that it is visible for everyone! ”
In the subsequent weeks, the group build the lighthouse. It is a daunting
task, but together they are strong and work progresses. The desire to con-
tinue increases as the tower takes shape and becomes taller. All the pieces
of wood that were hidden and forgotten about in the large pile of driftwood
and other odds and ends find a place and get a function. The children know
that a large
wave can bring down the lighthouse once again; that everything has a begin-
ning and an end, yet they feel no fear.
While building, a strong bond of friendship develops amongst them. On
the outside of the tower, a revolving staircase rises to the top. The tower
itself they decorate with beautiful shells, coloured glass and shapely pieces
of wood with interesting colours. At the very top, they have made a room. It
was quite a tough job to get the windows up and secure them properly, but
they have succeeded! From every window there is a view; views overlooking
the sea and the dunes. Right in the middle stands the large stone dish that
has a stack of firewood ready to light.
It is getting dark and the beach guard picks up a burning torch from the
campfire. He also hands Liam, Bob, Myra and Mats a torch each. Together
they climb the tower. At the bottom of the tower, all the other children form
a large circle and look up. Having arrived at the top, the four friends and the
beach guard put their flaming torches to the stack of wood. The dry kindling
is immediately ignited and a large fire flares high.
The children on the beach below are cheering when they see how the fire is lit
and magnified by the special windows. The radiating light of the lighthouse
can be seen far out at sea and for miles around as a safe, shining beacon. All
are thankful that together they have been able to build, to help with some-
thing so special. It is as if the light from the tower tells them of a greater light,

20
the Light of the Original Sun that shines for all and forever.
Standing in a circle, the children feel how in their hearts also a fire has been
kindled. They decide that they will always ensure to keep this fire burning!

21
chapter 3
The land of many tracks

T his story is about a land, a country. Is it a country far from here? Yes, you
could say that and yet, it is nearer than you might think! Well, in that
country things happen rather differently than we are used to in our country,
in our world. In that country there are no houses, no roads with cars and
bikes; there are no playgrounds even! No buses, no roads? What kind of coun-
try is that you might ask. The inhabitants call it: The Land-of-Many-Tracks.
“Toot, toot.”
“Oh no, he is still nowhere in sight ...” Searching, Tara looks around.
“Where is that sleepy head? The first engine has already blown its whistle,
the train is about to leave!” Tara has hardly stopped grumbling when a voice
booms across the terrain.
“In a few minutes, the school train to the timetable lesson will be leaving
from platform 9b. I repeat: In a few minutes ...”
Tara pays no further attention to the announcement for in the distance she
has spotted a boy looking sleepily around him, his fair hair sticking out in all
directions.
“Joe, over here, hurry!” Tara waves abundantly trying to catch his attention,
but then he sees her.
“Hi, Tara! Yes, I’m here!” Quickly Joe pushes his carriage towards Tara’s.
“Here, let me give you a hand.” Tara jumps down from her own carriage and
helps Joe to join his coach to hers.
“Phew, just in time,” he sighs, while the school train slowly begins to move.

23
“Why does that school train always have to leave on time, why can’t it be late
now and then?”
“If you ask me, you ought to pay more attention to the timetable lessons!”
grins Tara. “You are late most mornings!”
Together, the children make their way to the train carriage where Mr Loco,
their teacher, gives his lessons. Being taught in a train, does that sound funny?
It is quite normal for Tara and Joe because in the Land-of-Many-Tracks every-
one lives in a train carriage and everything happens by or in a railway
coach. There is a shopping train, a school train, a business train and a play
train. When you want to change from the school train to the play train, for
instance, you do it at a siding. A siding is a sort of large parking for trains and
here the inhabitants of the Land-of-Many-Tracks connect their coaches to
the engine they wish to travel with. So, there are always many different car-
riages or coaches on the siding. Everyone has made their own coach as com-
fortable and as attractive as possible, but all have one thing in common, one
thing that is the same in all the coaches. Inside each coach hangs a beautiful
map with all the tracks of the Land-of-Many-Tracks. It is a map that can help
the inhabitants decide where they want to go and where they can travel to.
At least, that is how it used to be.
Nowadays, people of the Land-of-Many-Tracks join their coach to the en-
gines and travel with the engines. So, they themselves no longer have to think
where they are going.
“Hi, Tara, Joe!” The children hear behind them. A boy with a gingery crewcut
comes running. The other two look up in surprise.
“Freddie! Where do you come from? We thought we were the last ones!”
“I was busy in my coach as I noticed some rust on the second back wheel
this morning. Can’t have that, can we? So, I polished the wheels with my su-
per-duper cleaning stuff.”
“Your super-duper what?” Joe asks Freddie.
“Cleaning agent, of course! It really cleans well and it is fun to make! First, you
have to put a polo mint in some cola; that gives a nice fizzy fountain...”
“Hm, seems complicated to clean with,” Joe says, for he can’t quite see it how
that can clean anything.

24
“No, you first have to wait till the fizz has gone down a bit, then you add a bit
of soap and some olive oil.”
“And that really cleans well?”
“Super-duper it does! It cleans really nicely; the wheels shine and sparkle and
it smells fresh too. Useful, don’t you think?”
Tara can’t help laughing. When Freddie starts talking about his scientific ex-
periments, no one can stop him.
“Come on, we need to hurry, otherwise Mr Loco will have finished his expla-
nation!”
When they rush into class seconds later, their teacher, Mr Loco points to his
watch.
“Sorry Mr Loco, but I had to wait at the level crossing,” grins Joe. The two
others have difficulty keeping a straight face.
“Hmm, well, quickly into your seats now. Right, where was I? Oh, yes, square
wheels and why it is important to brake gradually and oil your wheels well.”
Joe does not see Freddie’s ‘I-told-you-so-face’. His thoughts are elsewhere
already. He stares out of the window where the countryside rushes by and
where tracks stretch in all directions, as far as the eye can see. He always looks
for the special tracks, not the normal shiny ones, but rather those that are
rusty, tracks that are no longer in use. Like the ones over there! Those look
really special, there’s even a bit of grass growing over the rails and the track
disappears in the bushes. “Those are the nicest ones!” ponders Joe, “You can
imagine where they go!”
During their break, Freddie, Joe and Tara drink their apple juice while stand-
ing on the balcony of the school train.
“Look over there!” Freddie points in the distance. A silvery grey train ap-
proaches at high speed and flashes past.”
That’s the T.I.M. (Tee-I-Em),” says Tara. “Train of Important Matters. It always
speeds as if it is late... Did you see those carriages right at the front? They are
as grey as the engine!”

Joe nods. “My father told me that there are businessmen and women who
find the train so important, they never even disconnect their coaches.”

25
“Goodness, that must be pretty boring and tiring too, always the same train
and going at that speed,” Freddie shakes his head. “Not my cup of tea. Let’s go.
We’ve got trainography, that’s a really interesting subject.”
Later that afternoon, the school train returns to the siding and the last whis-
tle sounds. “Toot, toot!” The school day is over. The children collect their
things and run back to their own coaches. Joe quickly changes to the football
train for his football training.
“See you tomorrow!”
“Yeah, till tomorrow and don’t forget to set your alarm for the right time!”
That evening, the children hook their carriages to the night train, close to
each other. In that way, they can get ready properly for the next day, because
they have a school outing on the Tension Express.
“Fred, can I please borrow some of your wonder soap?” asks Joe.
“My super-duper cleaning agent, you mean?” Freddie responds.
“Well, yes. I have to get my carriage ready for the Tension Express tomorrow.”
“Well, it is fast like a roller-coaster, but it doesn’t go upside down,” Tara com-
forts him.
And yes..., the next day they super speed in the Tension Express. Their school
day flies by. In the afternoon, after the trip, they are sitting in Tara’s carriage.
“Well,” sighs Joe, “I don’t want to see another engine for a while, I’m glad we’re
standing still at last!”
“Indeed,” Tara beams, “that roller coaster train can be fun, but I don’t fancy
being pulled along, day and night. Wouldn’t it be lovely to go somewhere by
ourselves?”
“Yes,” Joe agrees, “or to be standing still for a whole night!”
“I’ve got an idea,” Freddie lowers his voice and whispers. “Not so long ago, I
discovered a new point on the siding. If we go there this evening and push
our carriages onto a quiet parking track, we could look at the stars from the
roof of my carriage instead of travelling on the night train...”
“Great plan!” the others agree.
That evening, when everyone is hooked up to the night train, three coaches
roll quietly to the edge of the siding. Softly, the children change the points,
which allows them to switch to a different track and so they find the place

26
Freddie was talking about earlier in the day. Not long after, the three friends
are lying on the roof of Freddie’s coach looking up at the stars overhead.
“Have you ever got the feeling that we...,” Tara begins, “in fact, that all people
are always busy connecting to other engines?” Joe nods quietly.
“We are travelling around so fast, but where to? There must be more than just
these tracks!” Freddie sighs.
“Just what I was wondering too!”
In silence, the children ponder these questions. They have become so quiet
that now they can hear a beautiful, clear sound.
“Can you hear that?”
“Yes, indeed. That is something rather different than a normal engine. What
could it be?” They are sitting bolt upright and listening attentively. There it is
again! What could be making this beautiful tone? And... where does it come
from? The three friends look at each other. Before they have even said it, they
have already decided.
“Let’s find out!”
The next day they find it difficult to concentrate on their schoolwork. All
throughout that day the children think of the crystal-clear tone. Immediately
after school, they look for each other.
“Tomorrow is a free day, so we can start looking,” Tara begins, “but where to
start?”
“It has to come from somewhere, somewhere we normally do not go. This
sound, it is not from any of the engines we see around every day,” Freddie
states. The others nod their agreement; they are all deep in thought. All of
a sudden, Joe jumps up. “The map!” he exclaims. “The maps hanging in our
carriages have all the tracks on them. Surely we must find the answer there!”
The three friends run into Freddie’s coach and scan the well-known map. The
map has always hung there, but until now, they have never really looked at
it properly.
“Look! Here is a totally different line, it could be that track!” Tara points to a
faint line between all the dark ones. “Something is written here too.” With her
nose almost on the map to read the faded lettering, Tara reads, “Very softly,
high and pure, the tone resounds for the listening ear; leave behind all that is

27
old and search for the Golden Track.”
“That’s it! That must be the track we have to look for!” they all exclaim.
It is still dark the next morning (their free day...) when the three children
silently take their carriages off the siding. They arrive at the place where they
have discovered the unknown piece of track.
“Leave it to me,” Freddie says, and going over to it, he quickly changes the
points. One after the other the children push their carriage onto the unfamil-
iar track. Then there is another set of points.
“Left, or right?” Freddie calls out, leading the way.
“Let’s follow the direction the points are going,” suggests Tara and so, very
slowly, they advance upon the unfamiliar track.
“Phew, my coach is heavy,” sighs Joe.
“Let’s have a break,” Tara says, red in the face. No sooner has she made the
suggestion or Freddie’s coach stops and he calls out, “Ladies and gentlemen,
this is the end station. All change please!” Surprised, Tara and Joe look at each
other. “End station?”
When they have joined Freddie, they understand what he means.
“I wouldn’t call it a station,” says Joe, “but it certainly is an end!”

Right in front of Freddie’s carriage the track suddenly stops, there are no
more rails.
“Ok, boys, let’s turn around,” Tara says briskly.
The children return to the previous points and this time take the other track.
They follow all sorts of tracks they have never been on before. The entire day
they push their coaches onwards, in search of the beautiful tone. They do not
find anything but rusty points and old tracks that suddenly stop in the mid-
dle of nowhere. Tired and disappointed they return to the siding.
The next day, during morning break they meet on the balcony of the school
train. They hesitate. How and why have they started their search?
“Are we doing this right?”
“There must be a better way of moving forward.”
“Are our carriages suitable for the other tracks?”
“Was that beautiful sound real? Or did we just imagine it?”

28
The children are so busy with these questions that they do not notice Mr
Loco who has been standing close by for a while already. His eyes twinkle
when he says, “The clear tone is the departing signal for the journey you have
just embarked upon!” Surprised and somewhat worried too, the children
turn around.
“Mr Loco!”
Smiling, Mr Loco looks at the children and tells them, “As you have read on
the map, the tone calls you, hoping you will take the brave decision to leave
the existing tracks and search for the original one.”
“But how? Pushing our carriages is terribly hard!”
“Long ago, there were no engines and the tight time schedules did not exist
either. All carriages moved by themselves, for each had its own engine and
no one was bound to follow the laid down rails. These days, we let ourselves
be pulled along by engines that only follow the well-known tracks. Yet each
carriage, yours also, still has its own engine hidden within it. You need the
courage to use it and leave the existing tracks.”
Joyfully, the children look at each other.
“It isn’t necessary then to be pulled along by the big engines!”
Quickly they return to their own coaches and begin looking for their own
driving engines. The place where they have always played, eaten, slept, that
they have cleaned, decorated and cared for, in that place, in their own car-
riage lays the driving engine!
A short while later, three beaming faces reappear from the carriages.
“It’s here!”
“Oh, I have found it!”
“Here it is!” They call out happily.
“Let us start on our journey!”
All three try to start the little engine belonging to their carriage.
“Can’t get anything to move,” Joe groans.
“No indeed, I think we need to remove the dust and the rust first,” says Fred-
die.
“Yes, let’s first give everything a good clean,” Tara agrees. Armed with brushes,
cloths, sponges and of course the super-duper cleaning agent, they start.

29
Only when the mechanisms of their engines are sparkling clean and in full
working order are the children ready for departure.
Now, Joe, Tara and Freddie start out on their journey. With their carriages,
they look for the right track. Does everything now always go to plan? No,
certainly not, but they are brave and don’t give up. They meet more and more
children who have heard the clear, pure tone and left behind the old and
used tracks. Thus, together they form a long train and the high tone resounds
like a message for everyone who has the courage to leave the existing tracks
and look for the Golden Track.

30
chapter 4
The concert

M ila is a little girl who really loves music. Ideally, Mila would like to play a
real musical instrument, but she cannot decide which one. When Mila
goes to the temple, she listens always happily to the beautiful music. And
when she sings in the temple, she experiences a very special feeling. By sing-
ing together it is as if you are stronger, much more so than when you sing on
your own. It is like you are a little closer to the Light-land.
Mila also has a brother, Mick. Most of the time, Mila really gets on with her
brother. You can laugh a lot with him and he always comes up with exciting
things to do. But sometimes...Mick is just a silly little brother. He understands
nothing about music; certainly not when Mila is looking in the great music
encyclopaedia to have a look at all musical instruments that exist.
“Look, Mick,” Mila tries to show her brother the instruments in the thick
book. She tries to read what kinds of instruments there are. “…string instru-
ments, wind instruments, percussion instruments ...”
But Mick cuts right across her: “Music is not to watch, music is to listen to!
Bang, bang, bang!” He strikes two saucepan lids together and then does a
drum roll with two sticks on the wastepaper basket that is made of metal.

“Stop, Mick!” shouts Mila, “Let’s do something else before we get into a fight.”
Mick looks at her teasingly: “You wanted so much to make music and all you
are doing is reading a book. I am making music and why should I stop now?.”
Mila slams the book shut. In a way her brother is right, but she is not going

33
to say that out loud. His kind of music is not exactly what Mila has in mind.
What it is she would like exactly, she does not quite know herself. She is al-
ways so happy hearing beautiful music but she does not get that feeling when
she listens to the racket her brother makes.
Mila is not yet a very big girl, but certainly not so small either. Therefore,
Mother feels that she is ready to accompany her to a real concert. Together
they have bought tickets and a programme to read at home so they already
know a little about the concert. The concert is a musical performance with
lots of different musical instruments. As Mila knows, all these instruments
together are called the orchestra.
This evening, Mila will not just see the instruments; she will also hear them
play! She will finally be able to listen to them all without the invented cym-
bals or drum of her brother, who is too young to come with them tonight.
“Going to a concert is a really special night out,” says Mother, “so you should
wear your new dress.” Mila is very happy with her new dress because she has
chosen it herself and it suits her very well. When she has dressed in her new
frock, she feels nervous all over. Mother also is wearing a lovely dress. Off they
go together.
“We are not going to be late, are we?” Mila asks nervously. Mother smiles.
“No, we left on time and there is still plenty of time to first look around be-
fore the concert starts.”
“Great!” Mila thinks and she finds it all very exciting.
As they approach the concert hall, Mila skips forward to keep a little warmer,
because she’s rather chilly just in her pretty dress with flowery tights and her
thin summer coat. They must show their admission tickets at the entrance.
Next, they walk over a soft red carpet to the cloakroom. That is a posh word
for a coat rack. You cannot just hang up your coat here, you have to give your
coat to a lady who hangs your coat neatly away and gives you a small ticket
to collect it later. Mila gets two tickets, one for Mother’s coat and one for her
own.
“Look after them,” says the cloakroom lady while she winks at Mila’s mother.
Now they walk up some steps. At the top of the stairs are a lot of people, all
nicely dressed, talking and drinking coffee. Everywhere are pictures of the

34
musicians who play in the orchestra.
“What a lot of people!” Mila thinks, looking at the pictures with Mother. They
also look at the instruments that the musicians hold in their hands. Mila is
very curious how all these different people with all these very different in-
struments will soon be able to play one piece of music altogether.
“Are you coming, Mila?” calls Mother who has walked on. “I just heard the
gong and that means we can go through into the hall itself.” Quickly, Mila
joins Mother, for she would not like to lose her among all these people.
The gentleman at the door checks their tickets and takes them to their seats.
He offers Mila a sturdy, odd-looking plastic pillow (a booster seat really) and
says, “If you put this down on your chair, you will be able to see everything
very well.” And that is true, for when Mila sits on it, she’s even a little higher
than Mother.
“Look Mila”, points Mother and Mila sees the musicians coming in through
the side doors. Most musicians carry their instruments themselves, but some
of the larger instruments are already in place. Next, something very strange
happens: the pianist sits down at the piano and randomly starts to play some
little tunes. The violinists strike with their bows over their violins; none of
them plays in harmony; then some pull a face and start turning some of the
knobs on their violins. Other musicians leaf through their music or talk softly.
The musicians with the wind instruments assembly their flutes, oboes and
clarinets and blow into them, but it does not sound much like a tune. Mila
can’t believe her ears. This is not at all beautiful! This is just awful! It is a ca-
cophony of sounds! She would like to put her fingers in her ears, but that
would not be very polite really.
“How are they going to manage to play together?” wonders Mila. This is much
worse than the noise Mick makes with the saucepans!
“Oh, it’s not what you think!” says Mother, understanding from the look
on Mila’s face that she is disappointed. “The musicians must tune their in-
struments first, so they will all fit together and the instruments are all well
matched. Also, all the musicians have to make sure they are looking at the
right music so they all play the same song.”
Now it gets darker in the hall and a gentleman arrives from a side door. The

35
people start to applaud very loudly.
“That is the conductor,” whispers Mother and then she claps also. “In a mo-
ment he will stand in front of all the musicians and they all will have to pay
attention so they all start and finish at the same time,” she explains.
“Oh, so the musicians get some help to make it sound right,” Mila whispers,
already a little less worried.
“That’s right. Hush now, listen and watch what the conductor is doing.”
For a moment it is completely silent in the great hall, all the musicians are
watching the conductor; then he waves his baton and the orchestra starts
playing. It’s beautiful and Mila forgets that she is in the concert hall and that
not so long ago she wanted to put her fingers in her ears. She almost has tears
in her eyes from the soft playing of the violins. In another moment they play
very loudly, for the conductor asks them to do so by waving his baton in a
special way. The pianist’s fingers move over the piano keys so that it looks
like a flowing river and all flutes play a beautiful melody. Mila wishes that she
could participate in such a wonderful thing. It’s almost as if all the instru-
ments together form one single sound. Then, for a moment Mila feels a very
strong longing... Before she knows it, the concert is over and the people give
thunderous applause. Mila and her mother also clap loudly.
A few weeks later, we notice a girl with a violin case on her back cycling fast.
Yes, you have guessed it; it is Mila on her way to music school. She has already
had a few lessons and it certainly was not easy! When you take the violin out
of its case, the strings must be tightened, not too tight, for then the sound
will be much too high, but they also should not be too loose, because then
the sound will be too low… The hair on the bow should be brushed with a
little resin and you should be able to clamp the violin with your chin against
your chest and then you move the bow across the strings; it sounds still far
from musical!
To become a real musician, Mila now has a music lesson every week, but
sometimes she loses hope. When she has mastered how to make the notes
sound right, then they appear not to be the ones on the music sheet. On the
music sheet there are all kinds of lines and small circles and if you can under-
stand them, you can start making music. Without the music on the paper it is

36
also possible to make music, but then it’s much harder to play together with
others. Your music might be very beautiful, but the others will perhaps play
something else and then it will not sound harmonious. So, every day Mila
practices at home in her room.
“Bang, bang!” She hears her brother beat the saucepan lids.
“Meow,” howls the cat and arching its back, jumps off her bed to find a safe
place somewhere else in the house. Still, Mila does not give up.
One morning, as Mila practises some very difficult notes, she hears the clat-
tering of the letterbox and the thud of post falling on the mat. Mick hears it
too and is first to arrive on the scene. He sometimes gets a card from Grand-
ma, but today he comes back with a letter. He shows it to Mother, for he
cannot read yet. Mother reads out loud. “To Mila and Mick.” Then she says,
“You try and read it, Mila,” and gives Mila the letter. Quickly, Mila opens the
envelope and reads out loud. It is an invitation to go to the temple. Mila has
been before, but now her brother Mick is also allowed to go because all the
younger children are also invited. Excitedly, Mick runs around the room as he
hears it. Immediately, Mila worries a little bit. “Will he be able to sit still for
that long? Won’t he go drumming on the chairs when he hears the music?”
Mila wonders. However, she doesn’t let this worry her for too long and going
to her room fetches her own youth temple song book. Together with her
brother, she practises one of the songs. It is about the Rosebud deep in the
heart of every child of man, that wishes to return to its true home. Mick can-
not yet read the words, yet he sings along very well and doesn’t once tease
Mila with saucepan lids now. He does not even think of that and it is like he
already understands that he himself carries a Rosebud, deep in his heart that
reminds him of something of the Original Life.
Mila and Mick are in the temple with other children from the youth work.
Mick has completely turned around on his chair and is looking behind him
because he doesn’t know all the children yet. Once everyone is seated, a
youth leader comes to tell a story so they all try to be very quiet and still.
That is quite difficult because there are so many things to think of. Mila’s
head also is always full of thoughts. She has actually been thinking about her
violin and what she wants to play this afternoon, but when the piano begins

37
to play, Mila too is soon looking for the song they are about to sing. And then
something quite special happens. As of one voice resounds the song the chil-
dren sing together. All the children sing the song and without a conductor!
It sounds very harmonious and it is truly beautiful! And deep in her heart
Milla knows that at such a time as this, the voice of the Rosebud vibrates
even stronger in every heart and it strengthens the longing to continue the
journey to the Light-land, ‘till we finally all together at the pure source again
will stand.’

38
chapter 5
The bakery

A
“ nd the winner of the drawing contest is…” There is an expectant silence
in the hall. Master Baker Quinn looks around the room. Most children
are sitting on the edge of their seat. All of them would like to win the drawing
contest prize, consisting of helping two days at the bakery, so all of them have
done their best on the drawing and the colouring.
The Royal Sheaf Bakery is the oldest bakery in the country and for many years
supplier to the royal palace. The bakery is well-known across the country and
abroad for its delicious cakes and wonderful pastries. True works of art of a
very delicate flavour are created here. And the recipes? Well, obviously, they
are top secret!
“The winner is…Joe!” calls the Master Baker. There is applause in the hall.
“Me?” asks Joe when all is quiet again and he looks around in amazement,
just to check there are no other Joes in the hall, but the Master Baker says,
laughing, “Yes, you, Joe. Really! Next week during the school holidays, you can
come and help for two days in the bakery, and you can bring a friend, for that
is the prize!” An audible sigh from the audience. That really is a fabulous prize!
Normally, nobody is allowed to enter the bakery just like that.
Joe does not have to think long about whom he will ask to come with him.
It is Marion of course, his best friend.
“Mari,” he whispers, “do you want to come with me?”
“Of course,” Marion whispers back, “what do you think? That I would miss
such an opportunity? You don’t really know me then!”

41
Shortly after, the two children dash from the audience, all excited. Just three
more nights and then they will go and help in the bakery!
A few days later, Joe and Marion arrive at the bakery in great expectation.
“Good morning, children, how can I help you?” asks a friendly lady behind
the counter.
“Uh, well, I won this prize…” begins Joe, “and we have come to help in the
bakery.”
“Aha, then you must be Joe!” laughs the lady, “And you are?” she says turning
towards Marion.
“This is Mari, my best friend,” Joe says quickly. The lady nods and smiling
she says, “Just a moment, I will call someone from the bakery for you. In
the meantime, you can have a look around the shop.” Joe and Marion gaze
around. Next to the counter is a beautiful polished display that looks very
old. In it are delicious-looking cakes, each with a handwritten label. Marion
reads aloud.
“Chocolate cake with strawberry cream and sugared violets” and “blueber-
ry-almond tarts with lemon cream.”
“Hmmm, that sounds good,” says Joe, “or how about ‘stuffed profiteroles with
a sauce of dark chocolate’ or ‘chocolate meringue cake with raspberries’, not
bad, right?”
A boy suddenly appears next to them. They had not heard him approaching.
“Hello there,” the boy greets them, “I’m Leon. Do come with me! I will be
your guide in the bakery today.” Joe and Marion look surprised; they are not
expecting someone their own age. And as if Leon can guess their thoughts,
he says, “My father and mother have been working in the bakery as long as I
can remember, so I can tell you everything you want to know. I grew up with
a love for baking.”
“Very tasty porridge, I guess…,” Marion exclaims without thinking and then
gasps and put her hand over her mouth. Oops, how silly of her. What now?
But Leon laughs, “Yes, very tasty porridge, I have nothing to complain about.
You coming?” Joe and Marion nod. They go through a door and then climb a
long staircase. “Exciting, huh?” whispers Marion. Joe nods.
At the top of the stairs is a sort of kitchenette.

42
“You can wash your hands here and put these on,” Leon says and he hands
them two aprons. “It is very important that everything in the bakery remains
extremely clean. That is one of the many secrets of the trade.”
Moments later Joe and Marion really look like two bakers with white aprons,
white sneakers and a chef’s hat each.
“Now we can go in,” says Leon and he opens the heavy door to the bakery.
“Wow!” exclaims Joe.
“Wow!” Marion also exclaims. For the next minutes, they remain speechless.
They are standing on a high balcony from where they can oversee the whole
bakery. Everywhere they see people busy at work. Some of the people are
mixing batters in large bowls, others are whipping cream and decorating ga-
teau, while yet others are taking cakes in and out of the ovens and much
more.
“What a lot of people,” whispers Marion.
“Yes, and how quiet it is here,” whispered Joe surprised.
“Yes,” says Leon, “when you are baking, concentration is very important.
When you are mixing eggs and sugar for a chocolate mousse, for example,
you need exactly four minutes and thirty-eight seconds to obtain a perfect
light mousse. When you are chatting at the same time, you never really stop
the mixing in time. So, it’s always quiet.”
“Isn’t that boring, if you cannot talk while you work?” asks Marion.
“Not at all,” says Leon, “the people who work here, bake with so much love
and dedication that they like to work like this.”
For a moment, Marion is deep in thought, but then she says, “Yes, I can actu-
ally understand that, for I cannot manage two things at once either.”
Leon laughs. “But it’s not always so quiet,” he says reassuringly. “During breaks,
we often have the greatest fun together.”
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.
“Ah, great,” says Leon, “that means it’s time for a coffee break. Now I will be
able to introduce you to everyone and after that, you can set to work. You
will be allowed to choose whatever you want to do.”
Joe and Marion look at each other. What will they choose?
“Fancy a game of table football?” asks one of the bakers. Since they like the

43
idea, the two newcomers become engaged in a heated game. Meanwhile,
others sit at long tables sipping coffee with goodies, while chatting.
“Hello everyone,” Leon calls out, “may I introduce you to Joe and Marion?
They will be helping us in the bakery for the next two days.” The talk and
laughter die down and all eyes are now on Joe and Marion, who feel shy at
the sudden attention.
“Hello,” says Joe.
“Hi,” says Marion.
“Nice you’re here. Welcome to the bakery,” says Master Baker Quinn. “We will
be putting the finishing touches on a wedding cake with seven tiers, would
you like to come and help with that?” A little shyly, Marion and Joe nod.
“Can we really?” asks Joe surprised.
“Sure, we can certainly use your assistance. Follow me.”
When the coffee break is over, Joe, Marion, Leon, Master Quinn and three
other bakers make their way to a large wedding cake.
“Let’s see. I think we must work from small to tall,” says the Master Baker.
“The cake has seven layers; seven tiers and it is important that they can all be
reached. We can’t use a ladder!” Joe grins and Marion giggles at the baker’s
comment.
“So, the shortest can work on the bottom tier, the second shortest on the
second tier, etc. and the tallest works on the top tier.” They stand in order of
height and it is immediately clear that Marion is the shortest, then Joe and
then Leon and so on.
“You can place these sugared violets on the glazing of the lower tier of the
cake. One violet every two centimetres,” Quinn explains. Marion and Joe nod,
this is serious work. It is exciting to be a part of the team that has the task to
decorate this wonderful wedding cake. Hopefully, all goes well! With great
concentration and effort, all seven work together on decorating the cake.

When it is all done, they stand back and admire the result.
“Now you have discovered another secret of the trade,” Leon says.
Joe and Marion look questioningly at him and Leon continues, “Since we all
worked on the tier that we were able to reach, the cake has become really

44
beautiful. Good cooperation is essential for making a perfect cake.”
“I thought it was all about having a good recipe,” sighs Joe, “but there is much
more to it, I can see that now! Concentration, love and devotion, coopera-
tion,” he sums up.
“Yes, and the bakery has to be spotlessly clean,” adds Marion.
“Indeed,” agrees Leon, “and the bakers regard their work here not just as work
but really as a way of life.” Marion and Joe have to think this over for a mo-
ment, for they find this remark quite special! Then Leon says: “I think you
two have learned enough for one day, do you want to help in the morning to
unload the truck?” Marion and Joe nod enthusiastically.
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. We start at six o’clock in the bak-
ery!”
Now they look somewhat less enthusiastic.
“As early as that?” asks Joe.
“You’ve already said ‘yes’,” he reminds them and chuckles. “After the unload-
ing, I will show you the Royal Recipe book, all right? By then you deserve to
see it.” The childrens’ faces light up once more.
“Wow, these recipes are secret, aren’t they?” they both think.
Sometime later, when they leave the bakery, they meet a funny little man
looking around nervously.
“Hey Joe, was it interesting at the bakery?” he asked quickly. Joe nods in sur-
prise. Who is this chap?
“Have you had a look at the recipe book?” the little man asks eagerly.
“Uh, no,” says Joe, “that’s for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow …?” The little man is now jumping up and
down with excitement, “Can I go with you to the bakery tomorrow instead
of your friend? Then we can have a look together! That book is worth money,
I tell you! I would give a lot to be able to look at it. Just tell me your price!”
Both Joe and Marion feel that they must get away quickly. They turn around
and run home, as fast as they can.
“That was a strange little fellow!” Marion is panting from the long run. “He
really wants to see the recipe book, doesn’t he? Could it really be worth that
much money?” Joe shrugs.

45
“Let’s ask Leon tomorrow.”
The next morning at six o’clock, the children are back at the bakery where
they wait together with Leon for the delivery truck.
“Look, here it comes,” points Leon.
“Good morning,” calls the driver, “twenty sacks of the finest flour.” He opens
the tailgate and they immediately start unloading; always one bag per person.
They get hot and soon have to take off their jumpers.
“It seems like each bag is getting heavier,” Marion puffs when she lifts her
third bag. “I can hardly lift this one. Can you help me?”
Joe helps Marion carry the bag of flour into the bakery.
“Achoo!”
“Have you caught a cold?” Marion asks Joe.
“Who, me?” replies Joe.
“Yes, you, who else? You sneezed, right?” Marion looks closely at Joe.
“That wasn’t me,” Joe replies, shaking his head.
“Yes, it was,” his friend says crossly. “I heard you myself. You are not fooling
me.” The two children almost quarrel.
“Achoo! Achoo!” it sounds again. Now the two friends look at each other and
then they look to the bag of flour in their hands.
“Aah!” cries Marion, “It’s coming from the bag!” And at the same time, they
both let go of the bag. It drops to the floor with a thud.
“Ouch!” it sounds and to their surprise, the strange little man who spoke to
them the previous day crawls out of the bag. He is covered in flour and he
disappears out of the bakery at top speed. His plan to get into the bakery
unseen has failed.
“What if he had succeeded though?” Marion asks a startled Leon.
“If he hadn’t sneezed, he might have come inside without anybody realising
it.”
Next, the two friends go to tell Leon about the strange little fellow who had
spoken to them the day before and just tried to sneak in.
“He wanted the recipes from the recipe book.” Explains Joe, “He says they are
worth a lot of money and you can get rich.”
“Other people have thought that in the past,” Leon says thoughtfully, “but

46
the recipe book cannot be understood by just everyone. If someone were to
steal it, which fortunately has never happened yet, it would not be of much
use to them. You see, the secret of our cakes lies not solely in the recipes and
in the ingredients. Come with me, I think now is a good time to show you
the book. ”
Shortly afterwards, the children are bent intently over an imposing recipe
book in the Master Baker’s office. It is a large book, yellowed by age.
“The book is over a hundred years old,” says Baker Quinn, “therefore, some-
times the recipes are a little difficult to read, but the content is still relevant
and original.” He turns to the first page and pointing to a text in small print at
the bottom of the page he says, “Look, read this! What is written here is very,
very important.”
Joe reads aloud. “Attention: To prepare a masterpiece requires more than a
good recipe and the best ingredients. Never forget that it can only be pre-
pared in a clean atmosphere, with the utmost focus of concentration, with
unconditional love and devotion and by the ultimate collaboration. These
elements form the basis of every masterpiece.”
There is silence. Then Marion says, “That is exactly what Leon told us yester-
day.”
“Yes,” says Quinn, “and that is our secret. With these guidelines as our basis,
we are able to deliver work of royal quality. Every bakery has a book such
as this, but many bakers have forgotten that there is more to baking a cake
than a good recipe and good ingredients. For, based on your heart’s desire,
with love and devotion, you can also build a masterpiece and the light of this
creation will radiate into the world for all who are longing and lights the way
to their true home.”

47
chapter 6
Ships

A
“ hoy there! Ready to change over!” As he calls out to the others, George
spins the helm of the sailing boat. The two other children on the boat
immediately let go of the sails and run across to attach the sails on the other
side. The sailing boat just misses the red buoy.
George nods, “That’s it, if we do it like this in the race later on, we stand
a good chance of winning.” He looks at the other two and starts laughing.
“What about you two red buoys in the tub?”
Andrew and Lisa look at each other and then, seeing each other’s face flushed
from the exertion, both grin. Soon, however, the children are focussed on
their task once more.
“George, you need to fall off. You know, ease off a bit,” Lisa calls just when
George takes a bite of his chocolate bar.
“Ease off, fall off?” George repeats, “Fall off of what, the boat?”
“No, silly, not you! You need to ease off the boat!” Lisa shouts when she sees
George looking thoughtful. “You sail too sharply into the wind, so we lose
speed, you should steer away from the wind, that’s what ‘fall off’ means, re-
member.”
Just when George turns the boat from the wind, the children hear an an-
nouncement over the boat’s radio. “Skippers, training time is up, get to the
starting line!”
The three friends look at each other intently.
“We have practised touring this bay lots of times in the last few days,” begins

49
Andrew.
“Well, yes, I now know all the currents and shallow areas,” says George.
“Yes, and the places where the wind can suddenly turn treacherous,” Andrew
adds.
Now they lie with their boat before the line between two starting buoys.
There are other boats next to them, full of children waiting for the start sig-
nal. Then there is the starting horn ‘Bee-ee-eep’.
“Andrew, hoist the mainsail; Lisa roll out the jib,” George issues instructions.
The boat immediately surges forward and gathers speed and George must do
his utmost to stay clear of other boats. He looks ahead to determine the best
course. Suddenly, another sailing boat glides alongside and takes all the wind
out of their sails. The children’s boat now lies still on the water.
“Hey there, wind pirate!” calls Lisa, but before she can correct herself to just
‘pirate’ the other sailing boat has already passed them by and there is a gust
of wind in the sails so that the water washes over the side of the boat. Togeth-
er, the three friends recover their course and set off in pursuit.
A procession of boats with white sails glide through the bay in succession.
Eventually, our three friends come fifth.
“Fifth is a beautiful prize, there is at least still room for improvement,” says
George. Lisa frowns.
“You always want to win, don’t you!” George nods his head knowingly.
“Sure, and you know, in three weeks there will be another race, then we can
settle the scores. Come, let’s relax for a bit in the cabin.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Lisa agrees and follows George below deck.
“What are you looking for?” she asks Andrew when she sees him rummaging
through the cabin and fishing out the radio.
“The good channel, of course,” replies Andrew and just at that moment, Ra-
dio Wave sends a message through the cabin.
“If after the hectic race you fancy sailing in some calmer waters, then head 30
degrees northeast.”
‘Let’s do that,” Lisa suggests,” I’m ready for some relaxation.
“Excellent idea,” George and Andrew agree simultaneously.
When later in the evening they drop anchor, Andrew checks that the light

50
on the mast is still in good working order while George prepares their beds.
“Lisa, have you got the radio ready?” Lisa nods.
“Of course, we don’t want to miss this, do we?”
As they sit on their bunks, the familiar tune resounds through all the speak-
ers. “… Good evening, you are listening to Radio Nostalgia; it is high time again
for our quarter of an hour Bottle-Post: stories from far-away places, fascinating
recounts of exciting journeys or tales from times long ago that we have since
forgotten.”
The children creep a bit closer to the speakers.
“This quarter of an hour Bottle-Post is really my favourite programme,” says
Lisa.
“Mine too,” George admits, while Andrew nods in agreement.
“I wonder who will be calling the radio tonight to tell a good sailor’s story.”
“Shush, it’s starting…”

“Once upon a time…,” a voice begins, “there was a harbour at the edge of a
vast sea. It was a fine-looking harbour with a tall lighthouse. If you were to
look from the sea to the lighthouse, you would see a light beacon, a luminous
harbour. Many small boats sailed from the harbour onto the sea, carrying lan-
terns to also light other shores in order to ignite and thus spread the light over
the world. Then one day, some boats decided to sail further so they themselves
could discover new countries. They forgot their important task – the task for
which they sailed across the vast sea – namely to also kindle the light elsewhere.
And so they sailed over the sea. Where to?
That, they determined themselves!
The compass they had always trusted and with which they could determine the
course for the luminous harbour, lay under a thick layer of dust.
“We know very well where we want to go,” said the sailors on these boats. Thus,
their ships drifted across the vast seas, chased by strong winds and high waves.”

The children listen breathlessly. It really is very quiet in the cabin. Even the
ropes appear to have stopped flapping against the mast. The three friends
listen to the skipper telling the end of the story.

51
“Even now, small boats with brightly-lit lanterns leave the luminous harbour to
tell others about its existence and about the compass that is present in every
boat. They are looking for boats that are lost and those who have forgotten
about the compass; forgotten also that once they were radiant with light. They
are looking for skippers who have the courage to re-determine their course,
using their compass. Back to the luminous harbour!
And you, dear listener, have you got the courage? ”

“What a beautiful story,” George stares straight ahead.

“It’s not only a beautiful story,” says Andrew, “it is as if it wants to tell us some-
thing, as if it wants to explain something, don’t you think?” The children are
so full of the story that they do not even hear the announcement that “Won-
derful, wonderful! Another beautiful, imaginative story. And now, dear listeners,
very appropriate, a hit from a bygone era:
“Message from a bottle by Throttle.”

The next morning, three children thoughtfully sip their orange juice, still
thinking about the story from the previous night.
“It really was a lovely story,” says George.
“It was,” agrees Lisa, “I immediately had to think of all the boats we always see.
Where are they actually going?”
“Yes, and us? In fact, where are we going?” Andrew asked aloud.
“The ship’s radio helps us on our way and often determines our course, but
where to really?” George turns the volume knob so that they can hear the
radio’s instructions better.

“A westerly breeze will turn into a strong wind. For the big daredevils, let the
wind full into the sails and set course for the Eastern Shallows.”

“Cool! The Eastern Shallows, you always have to be very careful that you do
not run aground there.” Already, Lisa is excited.
“Let’s go!” Before they know it, they are on the move again. Yet, a dark cloud
slowly appears overhead and moves towards them…

52
“I think we need our rain jackets,” George says and dives inside the cabin.
Even before he is back, it has started to rain. Tucked deep inside their water-
proofs, the children sail on.
“Boys, watch out! Here comes the wind…, “Lisa calls from the bow.
“Look! The waves are coming super-fast towards us.”
In an instant, the children find themselves in the middle of a storm. Waves
hit the deck and Andrew has great difficulty keeping the boat under control.
“Let’s lower the sails and wait for the worst of the storm to pass.”
“Wow! That really came out of nowhere, it seems,” says George when all three
are in the cabin, dripping water all over the floor.
“Just checking how long this will last,” Lisa turns the volume on the radio.

“… at Cape the Great Hope, a large pod of stray porpoises has caused a water
traffic jam, due to their entering the marina. The harbour police are leading the
porpoises back to the open sea, so all boats and sailing ships can now return to
their berthing places. West of the Eastern Shallows a strong, low-pressure area
has created a heavy storm, as soon as possible, all boats there are recommend-
ed to… beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep!”

The radio beeps, coughs and splutters…

“What do they recommend?” George runs quickly to the radio and turns the
controls. But however much he tries, there is only a crackling sound…
“I suppose it’s the antennae,” sighs Andrew. Lisa sticks her head outside the
cabin’s hatch.
“Let’s look on deck, the waves are much less and it has stopped raining.”
“That means work,” George notes, “you’re right Andrew; not only the anten-
na but the rail too has been bent.”
“Then let’s sail to a sheltered place and mend the things there, “Lisa suggests.
Once they come into calmer waters, the three friends make a start with the
necessary mending. Before long the things on their boat are fixed again.
When the antenna has been attached to the mast, Andrew tries the radio
once again, but whatever he tries, the speakers only emit a crackling noise
like before.

53
“Hmm, monotonous instructions,” jokes George, but Lisa looks anxious.
“How can we possibly know where to sail to?” They scan the horizon, look-
ing for something that can help them determine their course. Nevertheless,
wherever they look, they see nothing but grey-blue sea.
Suddenly Andrew points west and calls, “Look, there on the horizon! You can
see a small sail. Let’s go towards it!” So, the children set sail in the direction
of the one small sail they have spotted. Soon they notice that everywhere
around them there are other boats.
“Let us follow the group,” says Lisa, “No doubt they know where the next des-
tination is the radio has suggested.” For a while, they follow the other boats.
A bit later, when Andrew takes over the helm from Lisa, she says,
“I was following that large boat with the orange banner.”
Andrew settles himself behind the wheel and peers over the water.
“Boat with the orange banner …,” he murmurs, “does she mean that bright
orange banner there on the port side or the dark orange one on the star-
board side?” While Andrew is wondering which orange banner Lisa meant,
he suddenly notices a dark wooden boat with a bright red flag at the stern.
“We will follow that boat,” he thinks aloud. So, Andrew changes direction
and now they head for the dark boat with the bright red flag. However, this
boat has much bigger sails and slowly but surely the distance between them
becomes larger and larger until a large cargo ship comes between them and
the boat they are following suddenly appears as a tiny dot on the horizon…
“Let’s just go for anchor and tomorrow morning we can decide which boat
we will follow,” George suggests.
Having spent a whole day following other boats, Lisa observes, “It’s no good
boys; we have followed other boats, but these boats seem to sail just as they
please. It is very confusing!”
“You’re right,” replies Andrew, “we will never really get anywhere like this.
Each boat is following its own course; what that is, is not clear to me at all!
Now that we no longer have a working radio, it strikes me that all these boats
are very busy sailing back and forth. But why? And where to? What is their
final destination?”
“You know what I keep thinking,” George begins, “the story of the ancient

54
mariner, the one about the compass. He said that every boat has a compass
to determine the direction to the luminous harbour.”
For a moment all three are lost in thought.
“Would we have such a compass?” George exclaims all of a sudden.
“Well, I don’t see why not,” muses Lisa. “In fact, I’m sure we must have.”
Andrew walks over to the cabin hatch.
“Let’s go and have a look right now!”
Searching for the compass, the three friends almost turn the boat inside
out, until a shout of joy resounds over the water. They have found the com-
pass and yes, it still works! The golden needle of the compass points clearly
straight ahead. Now they know where to go!
With joy and faith in their hearts, they begin their journey, for now, they are
truly ready, ready to continue their journey in earnest. And so, a small sailing
ship bearing three children sails over the vast sea, right through the exist-
ing routes. The ship’s radio splutters softly, but George, Lisa and Andrew no
longer need to listen to it. Of course, it is convenient for local tips about the
weather and occasionally for a good story, but the children no longer need
the repaired radio to determine their course. Determined, full of trust and
with a clear goal in mind, they set their course, on their way to the luminous
haven, guided by the so very special compass.

55
chapter 7
The Temple

H ave you ever asked yourself if a place exists where it is always still?
A place where you cannot hear the noise from the world all around you?
Where thoughts and things that occupy you every day appear far away?
A place that is always clean and pure?
As a child of Noverosa, you know that such a place exists; you may have
heard of a place like that or, if you are old enough, you may even have been
to such a place. It is the Temple…
Imagine a friend asks you, “What, in fact, is a temple? What do you do there?
Why do people build a temple?”
Then perhaps you can ask yourself, how can I explain this?
This story will help you explain it, but before commencing, another story
must be told first which, for Barrie and Ron, the friends in this story, began
like this.
So, listen very carefully:

Barry is sitting in the great dining hall of the castle. He is sitting at the table
with his friends and they are enjoying a delicious meal when suddenly a white
magician appears near the double doors of the dining hall.
“What has become of all my belongings? Everything has gone! How is this possi-
ble? No one can get into my room, well, almost no one. Only the blue magician
can!”

57
At exactly that same moment, at the other end of the hall,
near the doors to the kitchens, appears…who else but the
blue magician. He calls out, “White magician, I want a
word with you!” He weaves in and out of the tables where
everyone has stopped eating and now is waiting in great
excitement. What is all this about?
The blue magician continues, “I have lost all my things and
the only one who has access to our magic tower is you!”
Before they can raise their wands, the King intervenes.
“What is the matter? Why all this kerfuffle, why all this to-
do? You both have
lost your things and now you are blaming each other, is
that right?”
The blue magician looks at the white magician.
“Is it true? Have you also lost your things?”
“Yes!” answers the white magician. “Odd, isn’t it?”
The King rubs his chin and then he says, “We are going to help you both find
them.” Then he claps his hands and two knights quickly come forward.
“Listen!” begins the King, “You will call all the knights and, in an hour, we will
all come together on the forecourt of the castle. Magicians, you make sure that
there are lists in the castle corridor where people, who want to help solve this
riddle, can write their names.”
Next, the King looks around the hall and asks, “Who wants an adventure?”
Barry gets up immediately and so do his friends. They want to help the King
and the two magicians.
“Very well then, that’s decided,” announces the King. “We will finish our pudding
and then everyone can register on the lists in the corridor. In an hour,
we assemble on the forecourt.”
Barry and his friends have written their names on one of the lists and an hour
later they follow the knight, who accompanies them, into the desert. They have
to look for clues about the missing objects belonging to the magicians and they
will also have to find one of the objects!
In an oasis, they meet a camel dealer. While his camels are having a drink, the

58
 camel dealer thinks deeply when the group asks him if he
has seen strange objects or knows about them.
“In our country also, we knew a magician once who kept
losing things, but that was because he used the wrong spell
book. I advise you to ask the bookbinder who lives in the
forest.”
The group adventurers say goodbye to the camel dealer
and continue on their way. They still have to cross part of
the desert to reach the forest and once arrived there, it isn’t
that easy to find the hut of the bookbinder…but eventually
they spot it. Just as they are about to knock on the door, the
bookbinder steps outside.
“Bookbinder, do you know how all the things of the magi-
cians have disappeared?” ask the children. Thoughtfully, the
bookbinder looks at the group and then he says, “I think I
know who is behind this, yes! A magician’s apprentice came
to me last week asking me to repair an old book. It was almost falling apart.
After I had put a new cover on it, the apprentice picked it up. The funny thing
is, I saw him going towards the castle gardens, not to the magicians’ tower. I’m
not sure, but maybe he wanted to see if he himself could use one of the spells in
the book... Here, take this broom, if you ask me, it is from the magicians’ tower.”
The castle’s kitchen bell rings. This means that now all groups need to return
to the castle. All clues and all objects the groups have found are taken to the
forecourt where the King and the two magicians are waiting. How happy they
are when all the children return with the solution and with their belongings.
Briefly, the magicians look at the solution the groups have brought them and
then they call out in unison, “Philippo!”
And there comes Philippo, the magicians’ apprentice. He looks a bit guilty.
“I only wanted to help, but it all went wrong… But now I see all your belongings
on the table! Hooray!”
The King with his false beard calls out, “We will celebrate! Everything has been
found and returned and all is well that ends well! Let’s drink some refreshments
and eat some scrumptious profiteroles!”

59
“Wow!” exclaims Ron with shining eyes, when Barry has finished speaking.
“So, Noverosa was a castle this time! Last time you told me you’d all made a
race track with self-made cars. How wonderful that you can go to Noverosa
so often!”
Barry nods. Yes, it is wonderful to be at Noverosa, but not only because of
the afternoon games that are so fantastic and not because of the delicious
banana boats and profiteroles and neither because you can play in the sand
dunes. Barry thinks of the temple, of the peal of the temple bells. Then he
tells Ron that at Noverosa they also go together to the temple.
Ron has never been to Noverosa and neither has he ever been to the temple,
so he asks his friend about it. “What does the temple look like? And what do
you do in the temple?” Barry has to think for a moment.
“There is a temple at Noverosa, but there are also temples in other towns and
countries around the world; even in places like Africa and Brazil. All temples
are painted white on the inside. On the wall is a golden cross with a golden
rose in the middle. There’s a candelabrum with seven branches that some-
times is lit. There are benches or chairs for people to sit on…”
Barry stops to get his breath. How can he explain what a temple really is?
Immediately, Ron asks, “Yes, and what else? What do you do there?”
“We listen to music, to temple stories and we sing temple songs,” Barry ex-
plains.
“Stories? Stories about what? And why do they tell stories in the temple and
not in the dining hall or some other place?”
Ron now wants to know. Well, that is a good question!
Barry has to think this over for a bit. How is he going to explain that?
“You know what?” Barry says, “You could come with me, if you like. This Sun-
day, there is youth work in our centre. First, there will be a service in the tem-
ple. After that, there will be another activity for the youth.”
Ron thinks this is an excellent idea! After both boys have asked their parents
if Ron can accompany Barry to the youth activity, Barry’s parents have con-
tacted the youth leaders and now Barry and Ron are sitting side by side in the
temple on the first row. Ron looks and looks. This is his first time in a temple
of the Rosycross.

60
The Temple is entirely white; why would that be?
Ron looks at the golden rose attached to the cross.
Is that why they call it the Rosycross?
Together they sing a youth temple song.
The song goes like this:

Listen in the Temple still,

to the song so clear:
the song of the royal child.
Can you truly hear?
Hear, it wants to tell to you
of its Fatherland,
where the fire-of-Love of God
radiates without end.

“What a beautiful song.” Ron thinks, “It is all about the temple.” He feels like
the temple is a special place, although he does not understand everything. It
is still in the temple, but it isn’t just the silence that touches him.
It is also..., Ron doesn’t quite know how to put it; it is also beautiful, clean
and pure, all at the same time. It is as if all the sounds of the world have been
silenced; as if everything that occupied him is no longer so important. He
listens to the story. It speaks of a deep longing in the heart. Ron feels a kind of
happiness, a sort of gladness inside him, now he is in the temple. Would that
have to do with the longing? He understands now that it isn’t easy to explain
exactly what a temple is. You need to experience being in the temple to un-
derstand a little of what it is.

61
After the service, they talk together, while enjoying caramel waffles.
One of the youth leaders explains why the temple is white.
“The temple isn’t white just because we like it. The temple is white because
the Light for which we long, the Light from the Light-land is of the purest
white. This Light has been built from different colours and that is why it is
white, or you could say that this Light has been made up from all different
radiation powers and all these colours, all these radiation powers together
make this Light shining white. This Light, the Light from the Light-land is
everywhere around us. However, the temple has been built especially for this
Light. In the temple, this original Light can radiate more powerfully and we
can bring our heart’s rose to the temple to nurture her with this Light so that
she can bloom and become a Golden Rose.
Now you understand maybe why a golden rose adorns the cross in the tem-
ple. It is a symbol reminding us of a human being’s task. The cross is like our
own body and the rose in the middle symbolises the rosebud in our heart
when it is full-blown. Whenever we are in the temple we are reminded of
this rosebud. We also call it the spark-in-our-heart, a spark that can become
a mighty flame.”

Dear reader, what is a temple?

Why build a temple?
Have these questions now been answered, do you think?
“Yes and no,” you will probably say.
No, because it is still rather difficult to explain to your friends what a temple
is. Only when you have experienced the special temple field yourself, you
understand why a temple is an exceptional place.
Yes, because you understand now why people come together in a temple of
the Rosycross. It is a place where children and adults come to listen to the
temple stories and sing temple songs; a place of rest and purity; a place that
can remind everyone time and again of the Light realm from which they once
came and to which we must all return. The temple is a workplace of the Light.

62
chapter 8
The zeppelin

D id you know that we all live in an invisible sphere? It is called ‘microcosm’

and means ‘small world’. We cannot see this microcosm, yet everyone is
surrounded by one. Within its centre lies a light spark which we also call the
rosebud. With our microcosm, we live in the big world. Our microcosm has
been living in this large world for a very long time, for ages in fact. We are
born into this microcosm, we grow up in it, grow old and at some point, we
die. Yet the microcosm itself remains, for it is eternal.
That is what the children in our story discover. For here we meet a family who
can tell us all about how the world works; not because they are stuck with
their nose in books all day long, but because from their home they can see
and experience so much!
For you must know that the King family travels around the world; not in a
car or a camper van or something, no, in a Zeppelin! You know, one of those
large oval-shaped airships with a cabin underneath it. That is their home for
the time being. Mother Matilda, father Herman, their daughter Alpha and
her brother Pip.
Pip has just started year 2 and Alpha is in year 5 now, but during their world
trip, their mother teaches them language and numeracy. How lucky these
two children are, because not only do they travel with their parents, but also
with two teachers, for father Herman gives lessons in Geography and does
Arts and Crafts with them. So, during school hours their parents are their
teachers!

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For their lessons, Alpha and Pip have a real classroom in the Zeppelin with a
desk each and a chalkboard on wheels. They sometimes push the chalkboard
to their bedroom after lessons, because when it is folded up, you can build
a brilliant hut underneath. Along the walls of the classroom there are many
bookcases and right in the middle, there is a solar system the children have
built with their father. They painted the round lampshade orange and yellow
like a fiery sun and colourful balls hang on strings, one for every planet and
one for the moon, of course. It was quite a job, but such a project is often un-
dertaken by the King family in the Zeppelin. Teacher Herman shows them all
kinds of things that fly past the Zeppelin and they often build them together.
Meanwhile, he talks about this world, how it works and about the countries
over which they float. Mother Matilda also teaches them words in foreign
languages ​​and often cooks food from these distant lands.
Pip is still a bit young for all those lessons but likes to listen to the stories
while he is making or building something at the back of the classroom. An-
ything outside can be seen on the blackboard sooner or later. Yes, they are
true explorers, the Kings!
Alpha enjoys what she learns in the classroom, but her favourite spot is the
space above the cockpit. In front of the window that covers the entire front
of the room, she has put down some big pillows and a beanbag. She can sit
there for hours because it offers the best views. Everything you can imagine
and more can be seen from there as if on a large cinema screen. Fierce wet
forests or large, dry plains, mountains with everlasting snow and glaciers that
end into fast-flowing green hills, winding rivers, clear blue lakes and infinitely
large seas. And clouds, lots of clouds. Large candyfloss clouds, sometimes
even coloured pink and purple by the setting sun; small fluffy clouds, thin
misty cloud blankets covering everything and large cumulus clouds, dark,
threatening and bigger than apartment buildings.
Plopping down on the beanbag next to Alpha, Pip sighs, “What are these
clouds doing up here?”
“Yes, good question,” says Alpha, “they are here in the air. Sometimes they
suddenly vanish and sometimes they appear out of nowhere.”
“Sometimes you want to taste them for they look so much like candyfloss or

66
jump around in them when it comes to those soft looking downy clouds,” Pip
adds. Alpha bursts out laughing.
“No, you silly!” she says then,” You would fall right through them! Also, the air
is far too cold up here to go outside.”
“But what are the clouds for then? I am going to ask Dad in class,” Pip says,
determined to find out more.
Teacher Herman has to chuckle. Alpha was right of course.
“You can’t jump into clouds, they are made of water,” he explains.
“So, they will not taste like candyfloss either,” Pip concludes, somewhat dis-
appointed.
“Unfortunately, not,” his father replies, “but now that we are talking about it,
it seems to me an excellent subject for a Geography lesson!”
Already he is picking up the chalk.
“We are going to talk about the water cycle,” he says while drawing a large
circle on the board. “Clouds are part of that cycle because they made entirely
of water.”
“Where do they come from?” Alpha wants to know.
“Well, the cycle starts at the bottom of the circle near the water itself, the sea
or a lake, for example.” At the bottom of the circle, their father draws waves.
Above the waves, he draws a sun.
“The sun’s rays warm the water,” he explains, “and when the water warms up,
it evaporates, then the water becomes steam or with a difficult word water
vapour.”
“Like a whistling kettle!” Alpha calls out, “That also gives off steam.”
“Right! Exactly like a whistling kettle,” teacher Herman replies as he draws
steam circles on the side of the circle. “And because steam or water vapour is
lighter than water, it rises into the air,” he continues. At the top of the circle,
Herman is now drawing small clouds.
“That water vapour also cools down when it rises. Then it turns into droplets.
All those droplets together make these clouds.” And he points at the drawing
on the board. But Pip looks doubtfully out of the window where small fluffy
clouds slowly float by.
“They do not look like droplets at all, they’re more like cotton wool. And

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what happens to those balls of cotton wool, how do they get down again?”
Laughing Miss Matilda takes over. “Let’s make a story of it,” she suggests and
at once begins to tell.

“Once, there was a little cloud, it was called ...”

“Lottie!” exclaims Alpha, “Dottie Lottie.” Pip nods in agreement.
“Ok. Lottie. Now Lottie was a very young cloud that had just come out of the
sea. She was only a small light cloud and was quietly bobbing along with her
brothers and sisters above the sea. But Lottie was a curious little cloud. She
wanted to go into the wide world and so she asked the wind.
“Wind, what’s behind this sea, over there in the distance?”
“Fly with me and I’ll show you,” the wind replied and there they went, inland.
Along the way, they came across more clouds that were also curious. The wind
took all these clouds to green meadows.
“Well,” Lottie said to the wind, “not as interesting as I thought. What is behind
these fields?”
“Come along,” said the wind, “then I’ll show you.” And a bunch of clouds fol-
lowed.
“Now we are getting to the hills,” the wind told the clouds, “we must fly higher.”
Lottie felt a bit heavier but she went along with the wind. The hills were nice to
float above for a while, but Lottie wanted to see more of the world. Further and
further, the wind took the clouds.
“These are the mountains, let’s fly higher again,” the wind suggested. Lottie
thought the mountains were exciting, but it was tiring to keep flying so high up
in the air, for she was becoming heavier and heavier.
“Look, Lottie,” the wind shouted, “we’re approaching the mountaintop!”
Lottie saw the peak approaching and lingered for a moment. Above her, she
saw huge thick clouds piling up against the peak.
“Are you not going any further?” the wind asked. Lottie became unsure because
the clouds near the mountaintop were changing in front of her eyes into large
drops that poured down the mountainside until all the huge clouds had disap-
peared.
“I do not dare to go so high,” Lottie whispered, shivering. “I’ll fall down too soon.”

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The wind blew softly in Lottie’s back.
“If one thing is certain, it is that you will rain down,” the wind replied. “Well,
that is the life of a cloud, that is what you were made for. Besides, you will see
many beautiful things down there and you are desperately needed. Just look at
all that green down there. They are trees and plants that are thirsty and they
need you in order to grow.”
Lottie looked down with one eye and saw that the wind was right.
“Well then, I shall go, thank you for this trip!”
And so, Lottie went up to the mountaintop where she fell apart in big drops.
“Ha, it is not that bad,” Lottie’s drops thought, streaming off the mountainside
into the river that took them back to the sea.
Alpha begins to understand.

“The higher the cloud, the more water vapour will turn into droplets. The
droplets become too heavy and fall down again,” she explains to Pip and she
draws the droplets on the blackboard next to the cycle.
“Ah, and then it rains, of course,” Pip now also understands. “And the rain-
drops go back to the sea anyway?”
“Exactly!” exclaims Alpha, “So Lottie’s raindrops are creating new clouds.”
“Do you now understand why it is called a cycle, children?” asks teacher Her-
man, “the end of the journey of one cloud is the beginning of the journey of
a new cloud.”
For a moment the children look at each other, questioningly.
“Will it always continue that way?” they ask. “Always and forever?”
Dear reader, we have told you in this story about the water cycle, but look
around you in this world. Many things on our planet are a cycle. Think of a
flower. It is born from a seed, it grows and blooms, then wilts again. However,
seeds drop to the ground and bury themselves in the earth and so new flow-
ers will grow. This is how the cycle starts again. A tree receives nutrients from
the soil and makes beautiful green leaves. But the leaves slowly turn brown
and fall down again. There they are eaten by very small creatures and what
the creatures leave behind is again food for the tree. And so, it goes on, and
on, and on and on. Do you understand now? Everything, yes, all life on this

69
earth, is a never-ending cycle that starts over and over again. Is it not won-
derful that all things on earth are so well organised that everything works as
it should? Nature can be called a miracle!
Do you remember that at the beginning of this story we spoke about the
microcosm, about being born, growing up and then dying? Our life is a cycle
too, just like Lottie, the little cloud. Just like the little cloud Lottie rose up in
the air, became larger and heavier and then descended again as raindrops to
the earth, so it happens in our lives too.
We are also born in a microcosm; we grow up and go out into the wide world.
We experience all kinds of things and learn from them. When after a long
time we die, we make room in the microcosm for a new human being.
Like Alpha and Pip, you may also ask yourself, “Will this continue forever?
Does the microcosm remain in this world forever and ever and is there every
time a new child that grows up and dies again, after which another new child
comes to live in the microcosm?”

No, dear reader, for this cycle can be different. In the heart of every human
being and thus, in the centre of the microcosm, slumbers the spark of original
Life. It is a very small part of the Eternal. Something that never dies and which
is not of this world. This spark, which is also called the rosebud, we carry
deep in our hearts and it reminds us of the original life-field: its true home.
Through this pre-remembrance, we can feel a strong desire for the original
world. If we truly listen to this longing in our hearts, we can free our micro-
cosm from the cycle of this nature, so that it can return to its true home: The
Land of the Light.

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chapter 9
The knighthood

C
“ ome on!” calls Marin, sprinting down the hill. “Who can make it to the
bottom first?”
Even before he is halfway down the slope, something rolls past him. “Sam!” he
calls out when he realises it’s his friend who has curled himself into a ball, his
clear laugh resounding through the hills. Marin feels that his legs cannot hold
him any longer and he too rolls down the hill, faster and faster. Thus laughing,
the two friends come to a halt at the bottom of the hill.
“You look like a hay bale,” Samuel grins when he looks at Marin who is cov-
ered in grass and hay.
“The horses in the stable wouldn’t mind a bite of you either, just look at the
grass in your hair!’ laughs Marin. The boys now lay on their backs in the mead-
ow, chewing blades of grass as they stare up at the clouds passing overhead.
Marin points. “Look at that cloud over there, it really looks like a knight’s
shield.”
“What heraldry would you like on your shield when you become a knight?”
asks Samuel.
“A lion, because it is strong and powerful and knights must be like that too,”
Marin replies. “What about you, what would you choose?” he then asks Sam-
uel.
“Me? But I’ll never be a knight; I’m just a stable boy who takes care of the
horses. You are a page; you are learning to become a knight.”
“That’s true,” reflects Marin. “It’s odd though, because why shouldn’t you be-

73
come a knight too?” Samuel nods thoughtfully and then he asks,
“What is a knight actually? I mean, what makes a knight?”
“Oh well,” Marin begins, “a knight has a harness, a helmet, a shield and of
course a sword.”
“And a horse?” asks Samuel.
“Oh yes, that’s Lesson 1 at Knights school, of course, a knight has a horse.”
Marin shakes his head. “How could I forget?”
“So... if I had a harness, a helmet, a sword and a shield, and a horse, am I then
a knight?”
“Yes ..., eh... No. That’s not quite all.”
Marin agrees. “When is a person actually a true knight?” he mutters to him-
self. “You need to be brave, strong and steadfast at all times.” Samuel nods.
“Yes, that is important, I know, but there are a lot of people who have these
qualities and they are not knights, such as the smith, the stable master and the
master of arms…” For a while, the boys sit silently together, deep in thought.
“Let’s ask Henry the Jester. He knows everything!”
They shake the grass from their clothes and scramble up the next hill. When
they reach the top, they can see the castle in the distance, with its stately
tower carrying the fluttering banners. Dreamily, the boys let their eyes wan-
der over the hills.
“Hey,” Samuel says suddenly, “let’s go back quickly because the sun has al-
ready sunk as low as the birch trees near the stream.” Marin jumps up.
“Then we really must hurry, for I don’t fancy a bashing with the soup ladle
from Derek, the court’s cook if I’m late, and besides I am starving!” Samuel
nods as they dash across the pebbles on the forecourt.
Derek is already waiting at the door of the great chamber when the boys
arrive, red in the face from running. “So, gentlemen,” he exclaims, “we don’t
keep to the maximum speed today, do we?
I clearly noticed you running
through the corridors well above maximum speed.”
Taken aback, the boys glance at each other.
“Maximum speed ...?” begins Marin.
Then both friends notice Derek’s smiling face and twinkling eyes as he says,

74
“At the table boys, I think you’re both in need of a hearty meal.”
After dinner, the two friends make their way to their favourite place in the
castle: the royal stables. As they give all the horses fresh hay, they hear a loud
neighing in the back of the stables. That’s a new sound! There, in the back
stables, they find a mighty black horse.
“Marin! Look! Never have I seen such a beautiful horse!” exclaims Samuel.
“It looks even more regal than the King’s horse!” Impressed, the two friends
approach the horse with its long black mane. It begins to scrape its hooves,
rolls its eyes and breezes, indicating that they have to keep their distance.
On the stable door written in chalk, they read: ‘Fuego’.
Instead of trying to feed the horse, Samuel decides to throw the hay over the
partition.
“Yes, best you keep some distance!” They suddenly hear. At once, both boys
turn around. Behind them on one of the dividing walls between the stalls sits
Henry the Jester, a small slender man in a cheerfully coloured suit.
“Hello, Henry!” the boys call out. “What are you doing, appearing so suddenly
out of nowhere?”
“It’s a Jester’s job to surprise and keep an eye on the horse Fuego!” says the
Jester cheerfully.
“But who does this horse belong to, and what does it do in this stable?” Marin
enquires, getting more curious by the minute.
“Ah,” smiles Henry, “if I tell you everything I know, that’s so much that you will
forget everything!”
“How you always talk in riddles!” sighs Samuel. “Say, Henry, we have some
questions. What is a knight?”
Marin adds, “Yes, and who is a true knight?”
“Everybody can become a knight,” Henry replies.
“Everybody?” cry out both friends.
“Sure! Why not?” Henry asks.
“Well, eh…, because not everybody is allowed to go to Knights’ school.”
“Ah, so only if you have been to Knights’ school can you become a knight?”
“Well ...” Marin hesitates, “I do not really think that, but….”
“We wondered what makes a real knight,” explains Samuel.

75
“Oh, but you already know that!” answers Henry, eyes twinkling. Talking to
Henry, Samuel and Marin fill each other in on the matter that they have been
discussing. “Well, a knight is brave, trustworthy, honest, strong, kind, helpful,
patient, sincere.” Henry nods and laughs aloud.
“Mm, being a knight could be complicated if I hear right.” The boys nod, they
totally agree. “To tell you the truth, I would keep it as simple as possible: a
knight is someone who can stay in the saddle on that fiery horse and ride it.”
Marin glares at Henry with raised eyebrows.
“Do you call that simple? That horse will not even let us get near it! ”
“When you sit astride the horse Fuego, you know soon enough if you are a
true knight. Many people who thought themselves a knight came off that
horse faster than they managed to mount it!”

Before they leave the stables, the two friends have another good look at Fue-
go. When the boys look up once more, Henry has disappeared. On their way
to the courtyard, they notice an announcement pinned to one of the col-
umns. It’s a royal message, with the seal of the king. The boys stop to read it.
“What’s this?” Samuel looks at the notice more precisely while Marin reads
aloud.

Dear Subjects,
Today we call all of you.
Discover the true gifts you possess.
Call on the powers hidden within you!
Show your true knight’s courage and take up the challenge!
If your efforts are successful, then the last test for actual knighthood will follow.
The trial will take place in the grounds of the royal castle at the next new moon.
Yours sincerely,
The King

“I guess there will be a tournament and the winner will be knighted,” Samuel
says.
“Then I’m going to join in!” declares Marin. “At the next new moon, that’s

76
in just over three weeks!” He’s almost jumping with excitement. “I must get
ready! I need to draw up a training schedule; I really need to be in top form.
This is the moment to show that I can be a super good, tough knight.”
Before Samuel can say anything at all, Marin walks off to meet up with the
tutor who teaches sword fighting.
Time passes quickly. Marin keeps busy doing all the exercises on his schedule.
He sprints around the castle for his stamina and exercises sword fighting with
his peers. At the lance thrust, he almost misses. Although he meets the goal
exactly in the middle, he is rather wobbly on his horse and gets thrown out of
the saddle by his own lance. Grimly, he continues. He doesn’t spare himself;
he wants to shine at the tournament.
From a distance, Samuel observes his friend. Daily, he looks after the horses
and has discovered that Fuego is allowing him to get closer. One day he can
even feed him and then again, a few days later Fuego allows him to stroke his
nose. As Samuel becomes more and more familiar with Fuego, the question
“What is a true knight?” keeps him continually occupied.
With every brush stroke over Fuego’s coat and mane, the answer seems to be
coming closer and closer.
Sitting on some hay bales Samuel watches Marin and the other pages during
their training. He misses his friend who is completely absorbed in the training
and seems to have forgotten their talks about knighthood. Then, Henry, the
Jester drops down next to Samuel. “Don’t you fancy joining in?”
“Me? I’m a stable boy, not a page. And I wonder if this training to become a
knight, really makes you a knight!” Henry looks at Samuel and asks,
“What then is needed, do you think?”
Samuel thinks deeply, “I think it starts with the desire to become a true
knight.”
When he looks up, Henry has slipped away once more.
“How does he do it?” sighs Samuel.
Trumpet calls resound. The field where the tournament is taking place looks
festive. It has been decorated with many coloured banners and the crowd
wave flags. The King sits on a dais, a raised platform from where he can see
everything really well. Next to him sits the Jester, waving a stick with small

77
tinkling bells. Marin is full of excitement, and so are dozens of other pag-
es, countrymen, lords and princes. After the trumpet, the King addresses his
people. “Dear participants, I warmly welcome you to this tournament. You
will perform seven rounds of tasks. I wish you all the very best.”

The trumpets loudly announce the start of the first round. After each round,
many participants drop out. Marin, however, keeps up his stamina. He is con-
centrating hard. Even the task ‘Span your bow, but don’t let the arrow fly
too high” for which calm, patience and precision are needed, he is managing
quite well. ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Thus, with nine other candidates, he finds himself at the start of
the sixth round. Here, the participants must complete an obstacle course,
first on the back of a horse, then running the same trail with a heavy bag of
flour on their backs. Exhausted Marin lies on the ground after that. With him
are four remaining participants.
“Dear candidates,” the King has risen from his seat. “You have proven to be
suitable for the final test.” At that moment Samuel walks onto the field, lead-
ing Fuego. “You all get three attempts to ride this horse,” the King continues,
“Whoever can ride a length of the tournament field without being thrown
off, will be knighted.”
Not much later, all four candidates fail. None of them was able to stay on
the horse, not even for one second. And now it is Marin’s turn! It seems to
him such a powerful and wonderful thing to ride this horse. He walks over to
Fuego. Full of confidence he takes the reins. “I must do this!” he thinks while
putting his foot in the stirrup and swinging his leg over the horse’s back. At
that moment, Fuego moves aside and Marin falls down onto the grass on
the other side of the horse. Surprised Marin looks up. “This isn’t going to
happen a second time,” he mutters to himself, more determined than ever.
This time he takes care to be very calm and manages to get onto Fuego’s back.
Before he can move away, however, he is thrown. He flies in a big arch over
the horse’s head and lands with his nose in the sand. He scrabbles up and
looks around. Then he sees his friend Samuel who looks at him full of concern
and suddenly he remembers their conversations about knighthood. He also
thinks of the words announcing the tournament.

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“Discover the true gifts you possess. Call on the powers hidden within you. Then
show your true knight’s courage and take up the challenge. ”

At this moment, Marin realises what the challenge of this tournament real-
ly means for him. It’s not about becoming a knight, but about being a true
knight. A true knight will always make room for a higher goal than his own
self. He realises he cannot ride Fuego himself, but he also realises who can!
Marin stretches out his hand to Samuel and says, “Come, Sam, to you the
honour!”
Marin kneels and helps his friend, the stable boy, mount the horse. Shyly
and for the first time, Samuel mounts Fuego, the fiery horse. He gives him
a soothing pat on the neck. Fuego bucks briefly, but Samuel is able to stay
in the saddle. He goes into a trot and then gallops the length of the field
and back. Everyone cheers and calls out gladly. Then Samuel slows the horse
and when horse and rider come alongside Marin, Samuel stretches out his
hand and pulls Marin behind him on to the saddle. Fuego rears, but the two
friends are not thrown off. Next, Fuego gallops straight up to the King’s dais
and comes abruptly to a halt. Marin and Samuel shine with pride and joy.
The King is delighted and Henry the Jester, smiling broadly, winks at the boys!
By giving space to the desire in their hearts and by doing everything in order
to give space, the two friends are both rewarded by receiving their knight-
hood. For all who follow their heart’s true desire and understand its call, will
be able one day to become true knights.

79
chapter 10
The land of the sun

L yn lies sprawled on a lovely soft rug in Grandpa’s study. It is the best place
there is, in her opinion. In one corner of the room, on top of the large rug,
stands a comfortable chair with beautifully turned wooden legs that reminds
Lyn of lion paws and in the chair sits Grandpa. Lyn can’t see his face, for it is
hidden behind a thick book, but she can see his hands, old and wrinkly, on
the cover.
One wall of the room is covered in shelves; shelves that are entirely filled with
books. Lyn has picked two books that now lay beside her on the soft rug. One
is called The Land of the Sun. It is Grandma’s favourite. The other is called The
Four Seasons.
The Four Seasons is a hand-made book. Lyn and her brother Simon made it
together. Every holiday, Lyn and Simon go to stay with Grandpa and Grand-
ma and they always find time to go to the park nearby. It is a wonderful
park and the children like going there. This is precisely why they have made
a book about it, with pictures and drawings of everything they have seen
there throughout the years. For spring and summer time, they have drawn
crocuses, daffodils, lily of the valley and some small ducklings following their
mother duck on the pond. Lyn’s brother, Simon, has made a lovely picture
of the conker trees and the copper beech. In autumn, he has filled the pages
with all kinds of yellow and orangey-red leaves. In winter, both children have
sketched the trees without their leaves and the pond covered with a layer of
ice! With a sigh, Lyn closes the hand-made book and looks at Grandpa. He is

81
still reading. If she were to draw Grandpa for the homemade book, with his
wrinkly hands and his greying hair, she would draw him among the autumn
pages. Simon and herself, she would put among the spring pages.
“Here we are!” Lyn can hear the front door opening and closing.
Grandma and Simon have come back from their trip to the corner shop.
“A drink, everyone?” Grandma asks. Lyn and Grandpa follow Grandma and
Simon into the kitchen.
“Grandma,” asks Lyn, “why is it that plants do not flower all year long? And
why do trees keep losing their leaves every autumn?”
Then Simon adds, “Yes, Grandma, why do things grow and flower and then
die back? It’s the same with people, isn’t it?”
Before Grandma gets a chance to answer, Lyn asks, “Is there really nothing
that exists that doesn’t change at all? That truly lasts forever?” and Simon
wonders, “What in fact, is the meaning of it all... Do you know Grandpa?”
“Well...,” answers Grandpa, “you need to do some research to find out about
such things!”
Grandma has a suggestion. “Maybe we can help you a little. I just noticed you
took The Land of the Sun from the shelf in the study, Lyn. How about a drink
and some of these little cakes and then I could read to you from that book.”
“Eh, Grandpa and I were going to play football, weren’t we, Grandpa?” Simon
suddenly remembers.
“Of course,” Grandpa says, his eyes twinkling. Simon feels a bit torn in two.
“You can tell us when we come home if you find something, can’t you?” he
asks. Lyn promises to do so. She enjoys her three little cakes, while Simon and
Grandpa both eat four each! “Now we can play football!” Grandpa laughs.
Grandma also enjoys the treat. When the dish is empty, Simon and Grandpa
leave for the park to play football, while Lynn cuddles up next to Grandma in
Grandpa’s comfy chair in the study. Quietly, she listens to Grandma reading
from The Land of the Sun.
“Once, there was a mighty, radiant golden sphere: The Land of the Sun.
Everything in this Land of the Sun was irradiated by a special golden light; a
light of Love, Wisdom and Power. Yes, this golden Light surrounded even the
smallest of things and the tiniest of creatures. In this land lived the Sun-children.

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The land of the Sun was their homeland.
All the Sun-children lived in the Light and always worked together in the ev-
er-radiant Land of the Sun. But one day, there were some Sun-children who
didn’t work together. They had many questions and only wanted to find the an-
swers. That is why these Sun-children had to leave the Land of the Sun and they
departed. But before they left, they all received a tiny spark of the golden Light.
A sphere surrounded this shining light.
As they travelled on, the Sun-children came to a mountainous region, far, far
away from the Land of the Sun, and still the small spark of golden light shone.
Having arrived in the mountains, these Sun-children received another name, a
temporary name. They became known as Gold-seekers because they had the
task to look for gold among the grey mountains. Yet, soon the Gold-seekers
forgot about their task!
“Ouch, ouch, what is that?”
One of the Gold-seekers, who has landed in the mountains, has bumped into
something very hard, something he has never felt before.
“Ah, ouch!”
The Gold-seeker discovers he is not alone! He notices a kind of small grey fellow
right next to him. He has a round body and a grey face. When the Gold-seeker
looks more closely, he sees that the little fellow isn’t really grey, but that he is
covered in grey-brownish pebbles; yes, completely covered in tiny stones! Sure-
ly, that can’t be very comfortable! In his turn, the small fellow looks at the
gold-seeker.
“Who are you?” asks the Gold-seeker.
“Me? I’m a pebble-man,” replies the small chap.
“How come all of you are covered in pebbles?” questions the Gold-seeker.
“Oh, here in the mountains, we live and work with pebbles. We’re very busy
doing things and of course, we end up covered in all these small stones. We can
handle a tumble and a few bumps because the pebbles protect us! But I wasn’t
expecting you. Who are you?” asks the pebble-man in his turn.
“I’m a Gold-seeker. I come from the Land of the Sun and I am here to look for
gold,” replies the Gold-seeker.
“Hmm,” mumbles the pebble-man; he can’t quite understand the Gold-seeker.

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He gestures to the other Gold-seekers who have landed a bit further on to follow
him.
“Come! Come with me.” The Gold-seekers follow the pebble-man to a place in
the mountain where they meet many other pebble-men. Their new friend in-
troduces everyone.
“Today, we will play an important game. Do you want to join us?” asks the
pebble- man. The Gold-seekers decide they will.
The first game is the pebble-hut-village game. Using boulders and large stones,
they all build beautiful huts together and fill the remaining gaps between with
small pebbles.
When they play the pebble-throw game, the idea is to throw the pebbles as high
as possible up the mountain. The pebble-men are able to throw the furthest!
The Gold-seekers try very hard to compete with the pebble-men and in so doing
they sometimes take a tumble and land flat on their noses. Everyone laughs.
Next, they gather on the top of the mountain and make the narrowest pebble
path down, for the walk-down-the-mountain-over-the-narrowest-pebble-path
game.
But of course, one after the other they slip off the narrow path and roll down
the mountain. All the Gold-seekers are busy playing games and time flies by.
Hours? Days? Weeks? No one really knows...
“Look! We’re covered in pebbles!” exclaims one of the Gold-seekers a little dis-
appointed.
“Shake them off!” advises another Gold-seeker. But that is easier said than done!
“It’s the dust. It clings to you, here in the mountains! The pebbles stick to it,”
another Gold-seeker calls out. And yes, that is true. The Gold-seekers now look
not much different from the pebble men.
Suddenly a pebble man rolls by. He is playing the who-will-be-the-biggest-peb-
ble-man game. He tumbles down, rolling over and over and then...
“Boom!” he meets with an enormous boulder.
“Ouch, ouch,” they all hear him crying and everyone rushes down the mountain
to find the fallen pebble man.
Here, at the foot of the mountain, sits the pebble man, next to a large heap of
pebbles. They have dropped from him because of the bump with the boulder.

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And where so many small stones used to cling, a soft golden glow now shines
through the remaining pebbles. The light comes from inside the little man. It
has long been hidden under the thick layers of dust and pebbles. Everyone is
amazed! The pebble-man himself also notices it.
“What a beautiful golden glow!” he whispers softly. “You know, I remember
now! This is the light of the golden spark in me. It stayed with me all this time!”
He looks at the heap of pebbles on the ground next to him. “Almost everything
I collected here in the mountains has dropped from me. Yet inside me, I carry
something that has always been there! At last, I have found it again!”
Everyone listens and looks at the pebble-man while he explains,
“Now I remember! Long ago, we too arrived here as Gold-seekers, but we were
so busy playing pebble games, that we forgot about the golden spark.”
“Then, do you remember the Land of the Sun?” one of the Gold-seekers asks.
“The Land of the Sun! Of course! How could we have forgotten it for such a long
time. Yes, I remember it now!” answers the little chap. “How I long to return
there! How can we find our way back there?”
“Here in the mountains, we will always be busy with the pebbles, we have dis-
covered that all right!” a Gold-seeker says. “However, we too have now remem-
bered our task. We are Gold-seekers of a different kind! Let’s turn around and
set out together to find other golden sparks. Are you coming?
Let’s tell everyone we meet what we have discovered today: about the golden
spark deep within us. Together, as we uncover the golden light within us, we will
certainly find our way back to the Land of the Sun!”
And so, they all set out together. First, some of them continue to search in the
old way, behind rocks and pebble huts.
“Where must I look for this gold?” ask the Gold-seekers who only see stones and
pebbles everywhere. Yet slowly, but surely, because of their deep longing to find
the gold and through perseverance, they feel the radiating, glowing light of the
gold spark within. Each Gold-seeker in turn thus finds the true gold!
One after the other, the inhabitants of the mountains discover that the gold lies
hidden deep within them! Together they travel through the mountainous region
and by helping each other and also telling others of their task, more and more
inhabitants remember that, in fact, they too are Gold-seekers! Everywhere in

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the grey mountains, the golden rays of the glowing sparks shine brighter and
brighter. Yes, everyone in the mountains finds the golden light!
One little pebble-man doesn’t really want to part with all his pebbles.
“These little stones protect me, I can handle a tumble,” he says and hides in his
pebble hut where it is still dark. But the golden rays that have appeared are
now so far-reaching that they even penetrate the tiny gaps between the layers
of pebbles forming the pebble hut. The unwilling pebble man feels the warming
rays and gladness enters his heart. He can no longer stay and so he leaves his
hut. He realises now that he no longer needs the pebbles! For what has taken
their place means so much more!
He finds everyone at the clearing in the mountains. A radiant light shines from
the middle of the clearing, like a mighty radiant sun. They are all ready for the
journey to their homeland.

Together Lyn and Grandma look at the last page in the book. They look at
the picture of the beautiful sun. The sun shines with even more love, wisdom
and power than before because all the Sun-children have returned home to
the ever-radiant Land of the Sun. Slowly, Grandma and Lyn close the book.
Lyn looks once more at the beautiful sun illustration on the cover and says,
“I can see now why The Land of the Sun is your favourite book, Grandma!
And... I believe I found the answer to the questions Simon and I asked you
earlier!”
At the precise moment that Lyn and Grandma have finished their story,
Grandpa and Simon return from their game in the park.
“Are you ready to go? It’s home-time,” asks Grandpa.
Grandma gets up and Lynn too, climbs off Grandpa’s chair. Staying-over-time
is up, the holidays are over.
Shortly afterwards, they are all bundled into Grandpa’s car. During the drive
home, Lyn looks at the daffodils and the primroses along the roadside. Then
she remembers the question she and Simon had asked earlier in the day.
“Simon, do you remember our question earlier today? Remember we won-
dered why everything grows, flourishes and then dies again, just like people
do?” asks Lyn.

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“Of course, I do! I wondered why it is so!” Simon replies.
And so... Lyn tells Simon the story of The Land of the Sun. “The pebble-men
and the Gold-seekers discovered that everything they collected in the moun-
tains eventually fell to bits; that it did not last, but that they carried some-
thing within them that was lasting! It was the gold spark in them, the golden
spark of the Land of the Eternal Sun!”
Simon thinks about all this for a while and then he says,
“Yeah, I sometimes have the feeling that there is something in me that has
always existed. Not a feeling really; more a kind of knowing deep inside me.”
“And you could say we are Gold-seekers too,” Lyn nods. Then Grandma adds,
“Everyone carries a spark of the eternally-shining Light in their heart. You
know that everything in this world will pass and change, nothing stays the
same for long, but deep inside you, there is something that will ever radiate.
You have come here in this world to discover it. You could say that we are
a bit like the pebble men in the story. Yet, like the pebble men, all human
beings can become gold-seekers and start the journey to carry the golden
light-spark in their heart back to where it belongs. Together, they will form a
golden trail, a trail showing many others the way, so that all may return once
more to the Land of the Sun.”

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 chapter 11
Freedom

“
Laura, I can see it! I see the castle!” Thomas calls out as he presses his nose
against the window of the coach. Laura has seen it too and she nods.
With their class, Laura and Thomas are on a school outing to an old castle.
On arrival, the children are eager to explore the castle from top to bottom.
“But ...,” says the teacher, “first, there will be a guided tour and then there will
be time left to walk around the castle by ourselves.”
The guide takes the class to see the whole castle: courtyard, dining rooms,
kitchens, stairs, corridors, the towers and hundreds of rooms. What a lovely,
charming castle! They enter a round room with dusty shelves, packed with
books all the way to the ceiling.
“This is the castle library,” explains the guide. “It is said that here the treasures
of the castle are preserved. Yes, that is what people say…” The children look
up to the rows of old, dusty books and some of them shrug their shoulders.
Where are these treasures to be found?
“Oh, no gold, no jewels or crown jewels,” explains the guide. “They are pre-
cious treasures that you can only discover yourself.”
Laura and Thomas look at each other and both of them think:
“Hmm, we shall need to know more about this!”
When the guided tour is over and everybody is allowed to walk around the
castle freely by themselves, Thomas and Laura make their way straight back
to the castle library. Again, they stand in amazement before the tall cabinets
covered in row upon row with books.

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Thick books, thin books, old books, new books. All kinds of books.
“So many books, what could they all be about?”
“Do you think there are books about knights?” asks Thomas.
“Or books about princes and princesses?” Laura whispers.
“Come, let’s have a look,” they exclaim both at the same time.
After a while, Thomas discovers an extraordinary book with a beautiful draw-
ing of a castle on its cover. It is quite a heavy book. He lays it gently on the
table and blows off the dust. Then he opens it. “Hey look, this book is about
this castle.” Laura comes over and sits close beside him.
“Oh wow, long ago a baron lived here with his family. Look, this is his coat
of arms. We saw it at the gate when we first arrived. Much later, they built a
large village around the castle.” The children leaf through the pages.
“Oh, this is about baker George and how he won the apple pie contest,” says
Thomas.
“Hey, let’s see, because that cannot be right, that was only two weeks ago!”
Laura frowns. Thomas has to think for a moment.
“That is true, you’re right.” The children read on.
“Huh, how crazy, this story is about two children, Thomas and Laura. They
went for a walk in the woods with their class and then, and then...” Thomas’s
voice falters.
“Yeah, and then? Carry on!” Laura begs impatiently.
“Well,” Thomas continues, “they fell into the pond. Like…”
“…like we did a few days ago,” Laura finishes the sentence. Laura and Thomas
look at each other in bewilderment. How can this be? All the things they have
both done and experienced are written down here in the book.
Just then, they hear the teacher calling them.
“It’s time to go!” The children are so anxious to read this particular book that
they carry it with them. Along the way out, they pass the guide.
“Uh, ma’am,” Thomas asks boldly, “we have just found a book that we’d like
to borrow for a bit.”
“Yes, because we haven’t finished reading it,” Laura adds. The lady looks at
them in surprise.
“So…!” she says. “Children who still read books, that is great! You may borrow

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the book. Your teacher comes here often and she can return it, but you must
promise to take special care with this particular book.”
Pleased, the children nod.
“Alright then, quickly now. Your coach is almost leaving.”
Laura and Thomas travel home on the coach and almost immediately they
open the book again. They are curious about what it wants to tell them. They
read more about the events of the previous week and about the day before
yesterday and the day before that... Suddenly, Laura exclaims.
“Look here!” she elbows Thomas in his side. “It says here that Thomas and
Laura get into the castle library and that there they find a special book. So,
this book is really about us!” Thomas looks at her, shocked and then he reads
the sentences over and over again himself.
“Yes, indeed, this is really about us,” he mutters, puzzled.
“Look, here, on the next page it mentions the broken freezer in the ice cream
parlour and about all the ice creams that had to be given away, but that didn’t
happen, did it? It is probably all a coincidence,” Thomas says a little relieved.
Laura gives him a look and shakes her head, for she knows better than that!
Thomas and Laura spend the rest of the journey silently looking out of the
window. The book lays closed in their lap. Both are deep in thought.

Does the book know all events already?

Can you see the future through the book?
And… can they also do things that are not written in the book?

Once back at school, the two children are distracted by their classmates.
There is still time to play outside. For a while, they do not think about the
book. However, Dan, a boy from a higher class, runs past, red in the face from
excitement.
“All to the ice cream parlour!” he calls. “The freezer is broken and all the ice-
creams have to be eaten, they are being given away!”
While all the other children jubilantly make their way toward the ice cream
parlour, Thomas and Laura look at each other. Then, they quickly pack their
bags and run home to their secret hide-out, the tree house in Laura’s garden.

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Once up in the tree-house, Laura whispers, “The bit about the ice-cream was
already in the book before it happened, you do not think that um, that ...”
Laura swallows hard.
“Yes, I think so,” Thomas says in a whisper, “this book will let us see the future.”
Laura and Thomas open the book and read about the jokes that are played
on the teacher the following morning and how they laugh about them! They
also read about the baker who bakes a new cake and lets everyone have a
taste. Unfortunately, the book also says that Laura and Thomas are not pres-
ent then, that they are somewhere else. Still, tomorrow will certainly be a
fun day. They hear Laura’s mother call that it is dinner time. The children say
goodbye and agree to be extra early on the playground in the morning.
The next day, Thomas and Laura see the jokes played on the teacher, but they
also think of the cake from the bakery they will not be tasting, for the book
had indeed predicted that they will not be there.
In the days that follow, Thomas and Laura continue to read in the book what
they will experience each following day. In the beginning, it is all a lot of
fun, but after a while, they are not so sure. It gives them the feeling of being
trapped in a story they already know. Like they have been through it all be-
fore. It must be possible to be different, they both think.
One afternoon, in the tree house, they talk about the book. At first, it was
exciting, they agree, but now it is beginning to get boring to already know
everything beforehand. What a strange book this actually is!

“In the book is written what we are all going to do. Does that mean we cannot
decide for ourselves? That we cannot give our lives direction? What if we really
would like to do something completely different for once? Are we really bound
to the story in the book?”

The children decide to try and find that out the very next day. The book
clearly says that Laura and Thomas cannot take part in the big football game
in town, because they will both arrive too late.
“Let’s try anyway to be on time, it is easy to arrange,” winks Laura.
Straight away, Thomas decides to put on an additional alarm. As for Laura,

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she sets all the alarm clocks that she can find in her home. Her family can
perfectly well do without an alarm for a day. As long as the two of them are
on time for the game.
The following morning, Laura wakes up with a start. The alarm clocks are
going off all at once! She jumps out of bed and dresses quickly, ready for the
football. But although she is ready, her whole family is still asleep, and there
is no one to take her by car to the football field. Laura takes the bike, but oh
no, it has a flat tire.
At Thomas’s, things are not quite right either. He is still deeply under his quilt,
despite his extra alarm. That day Laura and Thomas are indeed too late for
the football, just as the book has predicted. So, Thomas and Laura climb up
to the tree house and plop down. They really have tried to do it differently
than it is written in the book, but it has not worked out!
At first, it seemed quite exciting to already know what would happen the
next day, but now ... Do they really not have any choice but to do everything
exactly as it is described in the book? Laura picks up the book and browsing,
turns to some of the earlier pages. Taken aback, she knocks over the glass of
lemonade Thomas has just poured for her.
“Look, Thomas, here is a story about my mother when she was my age.”
Once more, Laura leafs through the earlier pages. To their great surprise the
children read stories about their family; grandparents, great-grandparents,
great-great-grandparents and so on, going back many generations. The chil-
dren read for a long time and discover that their ancestors experienced many
of the same things as they themselves are now experiencing. Then, as in a
flash, they see that they are part of one immeasurably long story.
“How I would love to know,” Thomas sighs. “I would so like to understand
what the book wants to tell us about our lives!”
“Yes, and where the story will lead us,” Laura adds.
Together they check through the pages of their life for the next morning and
suddenly something special happens. They see the image of the castle library
and how they will meet an old man there.
“Come, let’s go get ready for tomorrow!” Thomas snaps the book shut. Quick-
ly they climb down the tree and get the bikes ready to cycle to the castle the

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following day. The next morning, when they arrive at the castle, the sunlight
plays caressingly over the spires on the turrets. Laura and Thomas take a deep
breath, take the book from under the straps on the bicycle carrier and walk
over the drawbridge towards the gate.
The children do not know yet that this day will change their lives forever.
They are cordially welcomed by an old man who turns out to be the librarian.
He has eyes radiant like stars, Laura thinks. Even before they’ve taken off their
coats, Thomas asks about the book. He tells the librarian what they have ex-
perienced so far and asks, “What does the book tell us about our life?”
“Look around you. See all those books here? Just like your book tells you
about your life, so these books together tell the story of all of humanity. It is
the shared experience that is stored here. Your questions have brought you
this far.”
The old man points upward. When they look up, the children see a beautiful
blue domed cupola filled with glittering gold stars. Just like a real starry sky.
Silently they sit together. They feel a growing desire, a desire for freedom. A
luminous, glad desire. On the wall, they notice a text in ornate gold lettering.

New life in you can bloom,

the life sublime.
Tear up the weaving-loom
of space and time.
Child, lift your eyes up high
to All’s grand dome,
wherein the bright soul-star
once will come home.
Freedom lies as a seed in child divine.
Pass then by the new deed the border-line.

“The freedom we seek is not to be found in this book,” says the old man qui-
etly and gently.
“Indeed no,” replies Thomas, “and I think we’ll find it if we follow the desire
in our hearts.”

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Laura and Thomas look at the book that they have placed on the librarian’s
desk. Next, they look at each other and yes, they really know for sure: they no
longer need the book. They know now that true freedom lies in their hearts.
Hand in hand, Thomas and Laura walk across the footbridge and leave the
castle.
They know that they carry the freedom, like a seed, in their own hearts.

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chapter 12
The wind catcher

W herever you look, everywhere you see sand; sand, stone and rock.
In this dry, mountainous region lays a village made entirely of tents
and occupied by desert people. In the shadow of one of the tents, three chil-
dren are lying on their backs looking up at the clouds that slowly drift by
overhead.
The children’s names are Indra, Zohra and Dani.
“Look there, a cloud in the shape of an Indian,” laughs Indra.
“Yes, and that one over there looks like a horse,” points Dani.
They can watch the clouds for hours like this and sometimes doze in the heat,
yes, even sleep a little.
Suddenly something tickles Zohra’s neck. It is her horse, nuzzling her softly.
“Ah, it’s you, my darling horse,” giggles Zohra as she strokes the warm, brown
nose.
“Broo-hoo-hah,” snorts her horse and it gives Zohra another nudge as if to
say,
“Up you get, Zohra, you have idled long enough, shall we take a ride now?”
You must know that every child of these desert people is given a very special
gift at birth. Every child receives its very own horse, a horse that remains
with them all their life. Horse and human will constitute an inseparable unity.
They always remain together; they are never far from each other.
During the day, they often work together and at night the horses keep the
people warm. They are also each other’s playmates and best friends.

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Look over there, Dani’s and Indra’s horses come trotting up too.
“What’s up?” Dani asks his horse. “Why don’t you laze a bit too? It is the hot-
test time of the day!”
In response, the horses neigh, moving their heads
toward the rock formation in the distance as if to say, “Look, look over there!”
Curious at last, the children look towards the rock plateau. What is it that
preoccupies their horses so? Then they see it!
On a rocky outcrop, on the plateau high above the camp and silhouetted
against the sky, stands a horse; a horse very different from their own brown
and grey horses, for this horse is white, so shining white that it sparkles in the
sun. The children blink and have to protect their eyes, such is its brightness.
They hold their breath as if they are afraid that the horse will disappear into
thin air at any moment; but no, the horse remains.
“There’s a girl on that horse,” Zohra says, squinting a little.
Now Dani and Indra can see it too.
“She is waving at us,” Indra says, surprised. The three friends wave back.
“Who is this girl? And the white horse? Where do they come from?” the three
friends wonder.
“Let’s go her and ask her,” Dani suggests. Zohra and Indra nod enthusiastically.
They don’t hesitate for a moment but jump immediately astride their horses.
The horses understand the children better than anyone else and gallop off
right away.
Moments later, they all follow the rocky path that leads up to the plateau.
It’s a long climb. Although the horses are accustomed to this area, they can-
not go any faster than walking pace.
“Will the girl still be there?” wonders Dani uncertainly.
“Maybe she’s gone as suddenly as we saw her?”
“Look! Over there!” Indra exclaims when they have reached the plateau. “She’s
still here!” Together the children ride up to the girl sitting on her white horse.
“Hello there,” the girl greets them, “how lovely that you’ve come!
I’m Nuriya and I live here. Who are you?’
“I’m Zohra, and these are Indra and Dani,” Zohra introduces the others.
“Did you say that you live here? Here on the plateau?” asks Dani surprised.

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Nuriya nods. The three friends look around in surprise. They can see that
to protect herself against the fierce sun and the howling winds, the girl has
made a tent with poles and cloth.
“Do you live here all alone?” asks Indra. “Where are your parents?”
For a moment Nuriya looks sad, but then she says, “My parents live in a far, far
away land. I started out on a journey, but I got lost somewhere on the way, so
now I live here for a while, together with my trusted horse, of course.”
She waves her arms around and her horse whinnies as if to say, “Yes, that’s
right.” Zohra, Indra and Dani look a bit uncertain.
“Really, I’m not sad,” explains Nuriya, as if she can read their thoughts.
“Look, I have this wind catcher.” Nuriya points to an object that hangs from
a high branch of her homemade hut. It is made of small bamboo sticks fas-
tened together with string.
“When the East wind blows, it whispers stories,” Nuriya continues, “tales
about the country where I belong; tales about my father and my mother.
I’m sure that I will soon find the way back. The stories show me the way.”
“It’s special,” Zohra says as she looks carefully at Nuriya’s wind catcher.
“A wind catcher that tells real stories!”
“Would you like to come and listen to a story tonight?” Nuriya asks eagerly.
“There is an East wind coming.”
“Is that really possible?” asks Indra. The three friends very much want to.
They are very curious!
“If you bring some extra blankets,” suggests Nuriya, “then you can stay and
sleep here and do not have to descend the rocky path afterwards in the dark.”
“That’s a good idea!” exclaims Dani, “Let’s go back to our tents right away to
collect our stuff.”
And so they do. They mount their horses and descend toward their village.
“See you later!” they call. Nuriya sees them off.
“See you later!” she calls back happily.
Later that evening, Indra, Zohra and Dani climb once again the rocky path
to the plateau, this time packed and loaded with fluffy pillows and blankets
for the night.
Nuriya is already waiting for them. “Well, it looks like you are coming to stay

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for a week,” she laughs, looking at the number of things the friends have
brought along. “Shall we prepare your beds for the night?” she asks, “I think it
will not be long before the East wind gets up.”
“Yes, let’s get that over with,” Dani says and begins unpacking his gear.
With the pillows and blankets, they soon make four wonderful beds in the
open air, next to Nuriya’s homemade shelter.
“Who fancies a pancake?” Zohra asks as she conjures up a stack of pancakes
from her saddlebag.
“Hmm say, that’s yummy!” By now they are all hungry for a bite.
Moments later, they snuggle cosily and warm in the blankets under the dark-
ening sky. Their horses are close by. They see how the sun slowly disappears
behind the horizon. A breeze picks up.
“Do you smell that?” asks Nuriya. They nod.
Winds send sweet, fresh air over the plain.
“The East wind?” asks Indra. Nuriya nods.
“Shh,” she whispers, “Can you hear it?
The friends listen attentively. And yes, then they hear it.
At first there are only tones, but slowly the tones turn into words; first a whis-
per, but then increasingly louder. The words become phrases, then sentences
and finally form a story. And while the East wind blows, the children see the
story unfolding before their eyes.
They see a country with green meadows, clear mountain lakes and white
horses, their manes shine in the sunlight and look like mother of pearl. They
see how Nuriya’s father and mother are on the lookout in the garden of their
home. Where, oh where is their lost daughter? Has she already found the way
home?

Then the wind dies down again.

The children are back on the plateau.
They have become completely silent by this extraordinary story.
It is as if deep inside them a desire to the land of Nuriya has awoken.
“I understand that you really would like to go home,” Dani says softly.
They talk for a while and then fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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The next morning, they are woken up by their horses, who always know when
it is time to get up.
“Hey, let me sleep a little longer,” Dani says to his horse. But Dani’s horse
continues to tickle his neck, as if to say, “No way, it really is time you get up!”
Zohra’s and Indra’s horses are also waiting, a little impatiently. They notice
the sun has already been up for several hours. They stretch their muscles.
“Hmm, I slept really well,” declares Dani. “Are there any pancakes left, Zohra?”
and he rubs his belly.
“Sure, a whole stack of them!” answers Zohra with a smile.
“Nuriya, would you like a pancake?” asks Dani.
“Yes, delicious,” Nuriya laughs, looking at her three new friends. The four of
them enjoy the rest of the pancakes.
After breakfast, Nuriya seems a bit absent. Dreamy, as if she were somewhere
else with her thoughts.
“We have to go back to our village,” said Indra, “we promised to be back be-
fore noon.” Nuriya nods.
“Are you coming with us?” Zohra asks.
“No,” says Nuriya, “it is kind of you to ask, but my home is somewhere else.
Yet, I have something for you, something you can take with you.”
She takes the wind catcher and unties it carefully.
“Here, this is for you,” she then says.
“But surely, we cannot just accept it?” says Dani, “It belongs to you!”
“I no longer need it,” Nuriya says decidedly. “Promise to take good care of it.”
That, the children promise. Of course, they will take care of it!
Then it really is time to say goodbye.
They pack their things and once again mount their horses.
“Goodbye, Nuriya!”
They wave for as long as they can until Nuriya has become but a tiny speck
and then disappears from sight.
That night, the children feel that the East wind has picked up again and a
sweet fresh air is blowing through their village. Cautiously, they install the
wind catcher to a tentpole in the hope of a new story. Curious, other children
from the village come and listen too.

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This time the story is about Nuriya. They see how she gallops through the de-
sert on her shining white horse. She rides towards the east, towards the rising
sun. She is not alone! More and more horses join her; all as white as the purest
snow and carrying children on their backs. Slowly, the landscape changes.
While the sun climbs higher behind the mountains, the rock and stones have
been replaced by grassland and flowers.
When they arrive at a lake, Nuriya knows she is almost home. For here she
always used to swim with her brothers and sisters! Moments later, she and
her horse enter her parents’ garden.
“Father, Mother, how I have missed you!” Nuriya calls out happily when she
sees her parents. Her parents embrace her lovingly her. Their daughter has
finally found her way home!

The wind has died down and the story has come to an end. The children look
at each other. Is it true? Is Nuriya really home now?

The next morning Zohra, Indra and Dani ride their horses up to the plateau.
Nuriya is gone. There is no trace that a girl has ever lived here. In fact, they
already knew that this is how it would happen. They feel an enormous joy and
all three of them know for sure that Nuriya is safely home again! And when
the time comes, they too will travel to this country beyond the horizon.

...
And the wind catcher?
It continues to tell its stories; stories to anyone who wants to listen; in the
village of the desert people, but also far, far beyond

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Glossary

Vocabulary used within the Youth Work

of the School of the Golden Rosycross

Light-land original life-field of humanity

Microcosm ‘miniature world’

a structure of lines of force surrounding
a human being

Noverosa International youth conference centre of the

Golden Rosycross in the Netherlands

Rosebud or primordial atom, fragment of the Eternal

Spirit-spark in the heart of every human being

Temple a dedicated focal point where pupils, members,

youth members and friends of the Golden Rosycross
meet and together reflect on the universal teachings

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 the lost brother –
THE LOST BROTHER
and other tales

THE LOST
Have you ever heard of the Land of Many Tracks
where people live in railway carriages instead of
houses and where they are always hooking up their
carriages to this or that engine, for they have forgot-

BROTHER
ten that they themselves have an engine?
If only they could find it and follow the golden track!

Stories from the youth work of the School of the Golden Rosycross
And what is it like living in a zeppelin; one of those
funny-shaped air-balloons that float high in the sky?
Or have you ever wished you were a knight with a
sword and shield, but no…, there is no point in pursu-
ing that dream, is there? Will prince Felix ever find and other tales
his best friend and who will become King if he does?
Where did the mysterious horse come from the desert
children discover high up on the rock one morning?
And what about the curious book in the castle library?
And what exactly is a pebbleman?
The children in these tales become increasingly more
aware of their small world and take responsible ac-
tion! Join in their wonderful adventures as they give
hope and warm the heart!

stories for children aged 5-9

stories from the youth work of

the School of the Golden Rosycross
Lectorium Rosicrucianum
Rozekruis Pers