Long ago, there was a man in a far-off land traveling on foot down an empty road through arid, desolate country. He came upon another man traveling the same road. They walked together a while.

Feeling thirsty and nearing one of the infrequent wells along the route, they stopped to refill their waterskins and to refresh themselves. When they dipped the bucket into the well, though, it came up dry. They tried again, and again it came up dry.

The first traveler thought it best to set off again to search further along the road for a well with water in it. The second traveler disagreed.

“You fool!” he said to the first traveler. “We already have a well here. You do not know how long it will be until you reach another one. You do not know if that well will be dry too. I will stay here instead and keep trying to draw water from this well. Stay with me. There is still some water left in each of our waterskins. This water that we have can sustain us while we continue trying to extract water from this well.”

“It is true I do not know how far it is to the next well or whether it will have water”, the first traveler replied. “But I do know that this well is empty, and it is foolish to continue seeking water from a dry well. If you wish to complete your journey, you must seek water where it can be found, not where it is convenient to look for it. Please follow me on the path and find water, before it is too late.”

And with that, he got up and left.

He sought water. On a road he had not known and had not planned to take, he found a spring with fresh, sweet water flowing out of the ground. He drank deeply and refilled his waterskin.

His journey to the spring had taken him far from the dry well. His waterskin would hold enough to sustain him on the way to the dry well and back to the spring again, but there would be little left to share with the other man. Still, he made his way back to the dry well, in hopes he could at least warn the other man and point him in the right direction. He found the other man still there, still dipping his bucket into the dry well, though his movements were slower and more hesitating. The first man told the other of the spring he had found.

“If you have found water, then why do you not share?” the second man asked.

“My waterskin holds only enough for me”, the man re­plied. “I can spare a little to revive you and get you started on the way, but you must come to the spring yourself. Then, you will be able to drink as much as you can directly from the source and refill your own waterskin.”

He passed his waterskin to the second man for a drink to refresh himself. The water appeared to revive him a little. He sat taller. He thought a moment, then slumped again. Finally, he spoke.

“I do not believe you”, the second man said. “I have never heard of this road of which you speak. Perhaps it was a mirage, or a hallucination from the heat and the sun. Or perhaps you are lying and have some nefarious purpose in telling me of this spring. Whatever the reason, it is no matter. I have what I need here. Eventually, I believe, this well will yield the water I seek. It must! I have spent so much effort here already.”

He turned back and lowered the bucket again into the well.

The first man sadly got up. There was nothing he could do. He could not force the second man to come to the spring.

“The spring will still be there waiting, if you change your mind”, he said. “I pray it not be too late.”

The first man made his way back to the spring. He again drank deeply and refilled his waterskin. He looked out ahead. The water from the spring flowed out into a stream that ran next to this new road he had found. The road appeared to point more directly to his destination, so he set out on it.

He completed his journey, purposefully following this new path—one that rarely lacked water and took him through landscapes that became ever more lush and verdant.

The second traveler remained, dipping the bucket again and again into the dry well. It always came up empty. That man died, weak, alone, and thirsty.

**Inspired by Gospel of Thomas 74.