Recently, one of the readers of the Independent suggested a story he thought other readers might enjoy. It took place in 1872 and involved a group of individuals whose names are so well-known that the story itself sounds like something more likely to be found in a dime store novel than a history book of the time.
There’s a certain kind of beauty to the plains that is, from what I can tell, truly unique to this country. Let a little bit of rain fall on these expansive acres, and the most extraordinary flowers will emerge. But, unlike the manicured and pampered blossoms that adorn more “settled” places, these beauties have retained their sturdiness, their wildness, as if the sheer determination to thrive sometimes harsh conditions is an inherent part of the flower’s glory, itself.
Stories have great power in our lives.
For as long as human beings have had language and the cognitive ability to express thoughts and ideas—whether those thoughts were written or spoken or drawn on a cave wall--stories have played a role in shaping who we are as individuals and as part of a larger whole. And, occasionally, a truly profound story—especially one told by a gifted storyteller—will come along that causes us to question our world and, sometimes, to even seek answers to the questions those stories have posed.