The Hidden Path - 1 - The Goat Track

Once upon a time, in a village not so very far from here, there lived a nine year-old boy named Henry.

More than anything, Henry loved to explore new places. He had walked every street in his village many times. He knew who lived in each house and who worked in each shop. He even knew the names of everyone in the village.

One day Henry decided to follow one of the paths up the mountain. 

He had been up the main road through the mountain pass many times. So he didn’t go up that road.

He had also been up the road to the lookout many times. From the lookout, you could see every house in the village. But Henry wanted to find something new. So he didn’t go up that road either.

Henry walked past the waterwheel that provided power and water for the town. He walked past the power station and crossed the bridge to the generator house. Then, where the main path turned right into the building, Henry went left onto a little path he had seen last time he visited the waterwheel. 

It was a tiny little path. But it was a path nonetheless and Henry knew every path, no matter how small, goes somewhere. So, he let his feet take him up the little winding path. He ducked under a low hanging branch, pushed aside a curtain of vines and made his way up the side of the mountain.

I wonder what exciting things I will discover on this little goat track, Henry thought to himself. As he climbed higher and higher, he imagined all kinds of possibilities. Maybe it’s a secret way to the lookout. Maybe it just goes to some rocky crags and goats travel it often enough to make it look like a path. 

The Hidden Path
a fairytale by David Edgren

Henry stopped and dropped to one knee. There was something shiny on the path. Curiously, he pinched a small golden flake between two fingers and held it close to inspect it. 

“What is this?” Henry asked aloud. It looked like a tiny leaf—smaller than any leaf he had ever seen on a tree. And it was as gold as . . . well, it was as gold as gold!

“I think it is gold!” Henry laughed. “And where there is one flake of gold,” he said with anticipation, “there is usually more!”