Passage I

PROSE FICTION: This passage is adapted from the novel The Alchemist: A Fable About Following Your Dreams by Paulo Coehlo (©1993 by Paulo Coehlo).

Dusk was falling as Santiago arrived with his herd at an abandoned church.

He decided to spend the night there. He saw to it that all the sheep entered through the ruined gate, and then laid some planks across it to prevent the flock from wandering away during the night.

He swept the floor with his jacket and lay down, using the book he had just finished reading as a pillow.

It was still dark when he awoke, and, looking up, he could see the stars through the half-destroyed roof.

He arose and, taking up his staff, began to awaken the sheep that still slept. He had noticed that, as soon as he awoke, most of his animals also began to stir. It was as if some mysterious energy bound his life to that of the sheep, with whom he had spent the past two years, leading them through the countryside in search of food and water. “They are so used to me that they know my schedule," he muttered. Thinking about that for a moment, he realized that it could be the other way around: that it was he who had become accustomed to their schedule.

He had always believed that the sheep were able to understand what he said. So there were times when he read them parts of his books that had made an impression on him, or when he would tell them of the loneliness or the happiness of a shepherd in the fields.

But for the past few days he had spoken to them about only one thing: the girl, the daughter of a merchant who lived in the village they would reach in about four days. The merchant owned a dry goods shop, and he always demanded that the sheep be sheared in his presence. The boy had taken his sheep there the year before.

“I need to sell some wool," the boy told the merchant. The shop was busy, and the man asked the shepherd to wait until the afternoon. So the boy sat on the steps of the shop and took a book from his bag.

“I didn't know shepherds knew how to read," said a girl's voice behind him.

“Well, usually I learn more from my sheep than from books," he answered. During the two hours that they talked, she told him she was the merchant's daughter, and spoke of life in the village, where each day was like all the others. The shepherd told her of the Andalusian countryside, and related the news from the other towns where he had stopped. It was a pleasant change from talking to his sheep.

“How did you learn to read?" the girl asked at one point.

“Like everybody learns," he said. "In school."

And now it was only four days before he would be back in that same village. He was excited, and at the same time uneasy: maybe the girl had already forgotten him. Lots of shepherds passed through, selling their wool.

“It doesn't matter," he said to his sheep. "I know other girls in other places."

But in his heart he knew that it did matter. And he knew that shepherds, like sailors and like traveling ) salespeople, always found a town where there was someone who could make them forget the joys of carefree wandering.

The day was dawning, and the shepherd urged his sheep in the direction of the sun. He drank a bit, and he gathered his jacket closer to his body.

The jacket had a purpose, and so did the boy. His purpose in life was to travel, and, after two years of walking the Andalusian terrain, he knew all the cities of the region. He was planning, on this visit, to explain to the girl how it was that a shepherd knew how to read. His parents had wanted him to become a priest, and thereby a source of pride for a simple farm family. They worked hard just to have food and water. He had studied Latin, Spanish, and theology. But ever since he had been a child, he had wanted to know the world. One afternoon, he had summoned up the courage to tell his father that he didn't want to become a priest. That he wanted to travel.

“People from all over the world have passed through this village, son," said his father. "They come in search of new things, but when they leave they are basically the same people they were when they arrived. They climb the mountain to see the castle, and they wind up thinking that the past was better than what we have now."

"But I'd like to see the castles in the towns where they live," the boy explained.

“Amongst us, the only ones who travel are the shepherds," his father said.

“Well, then I'Il be a shepherd!"

His father said no more. The next day, he gave his son three ancient Spanish coins.

“I found these one day in the fields. I wanted them to be a part of your inheritance. But use them to buy your flock. Take to the fields, and someday you'll learn that our countryside is the best."