Down a small road, over a small hill and across a small bridge, there was a small village. In this small village lived a small boy from a small family with a huge legacy. They were the greatest blacksmiths in all the land. The boy's great grandfather had forged the swords that slew thousands and freed them from the chains of slavery. His grandfather had made armor that saved tens of thousands and secured their freedom forever. His father had forged the crown that founded their kingdom and would benevolently rule over millions. However, as with every story, every legacy eventually comes to an end.

The boy, when he was eight years old, began to work the forge with his father. He never really took to the work. The clanging of hammers on the anvil, the pumping of the bellows, scraping of shovels, and grinding of the whetstone were all horrible monsters to the young boy. In an effort to escape the nightmares all around him, he soon began to abandon his father midday. He would turn around just for a moment and the boy would disappear. He would run into the woods and chase critters or try to grab fish from the shallow river that flowed around the village.

One day, when he was heading out of the woods to go home for dinner, he spotted his father on the edge of the forest searching for him and calling his name. He skirted around the town to avoid his father and took a different road to his house than normal. When he was about halfway home, he passed a shop and heard the most beautiful sounds he had ever experienced. The gurgling of water reminded him of the stream he would play in and the scraping of a plane on a piece of wood reminded him of the breeze flowing through the trees. He also noticed a tingling tapping of a small hammer that reminded him of music his mother had played to lull him to sleep when he was an infant.

The boy, cautiously curious, popped his head into the shop and looked around. On one end of the shop was an older man, with thick white hair and a mustache to match. Across the room from the old man was a small boy with shaggy blonde hair, not much older than him. Both wore long green overalls, the man’s fit perfectly, but the boys hung a few inches above his ankles. The old man was planing the edge of a wooden board, running his finger across it every few strokes to check the smoothness. The boy was dumping buckets of water into a barrel, checking it periodically for leaks.

The sun began to peak through a window on the far side of the shop, and the boy realized he was late for dinner. Knowing he would never get home before his father, he decided to continue observing until his stomach began to grumble from hunger. He returned home and ate quietly with his parents. After the meal, his father scolded him for missing yet another day of work. The boy apologized and promised that he would do better in the future. He kept this promise for almost a week before he dashed off midday again. This time instead of going to the woods, he went straight to the shop he had visited before. After quietly observing them work for a brief time, he worked up the courage to venture into the shop. He tried to talk to the young boy who held up his hand and instructed him to wait. He brought the boys presence to the attention of the old man and then returned to his work. The old man greeted the boy and asked him how he could be of service. The boy inquired about learning the old man’s trade, explaining who his father was and how he cared little about being a blacksmith. The old man responded in a very different manner than the boy was accustomed to, with patience and understanding. He knelt down and took the boy by the shoulders, explaining that he had a responsibility to his father and he should return to his family. He went on to explain that all men share a Heavenly Father, and that if later in life, he called the boy to a purpose other than what he was born into, he would make it known to the boy. Confused by the concept of a second father, whom he had never met, the boy nonetheless agreed to return home.

He returned to work for his father for several years. Learning and eventually even growing to enjoy the work, but it never filled the void left by the fascination he had for the old man’s craft. When he had saved enough money to convince his father he was capable of making his own decisions, his father released him from his service and allowed him to venture out on his own to pursue his desires. The boy's mother was reticent to let him go off at such a young age, but her husband had made his decision, and she decided to trust his judgement.

The boy returned to the old man, and he was allowed to move into a small room at the back of the shop. He began learning the ins and out of making barrels and at once he felt that he was where he was supposed to be. He took to the craft quickly, showing a passion and talent for the work. He quickly surpassed the old man’s grandson, and after only a few short years, the old man himself.

The boy's father was more distraught by his son leaving than he had anticipated and became depressed. He began to drink too much and would often visit the old man’s shop in the night, shouting angrily at his son for leaving, and the old man for taking him away from his real father. The old man would always turn the other cheek, forgiving the actions of the boy’s father. The old man explained that forgiveness was not only good for the soul, but it was a command from their Heavenly Father as well. The father's behavior continued for several years until the drinking took its toll on his health, leaving him feeble and nearly blind.

In the year that the boy turned thirty, the old man passed away from age. His grandson had left years before to pursue his own goals, leaving his blessing that everything be passed onto the young boy. Three years later, the boys father began to decline rapidly. He was on his deathbed when the boy went to visit him. He prayed to his Heavenly Father asking him to spare his father. That night, the boy's Heavenly Father visited him in a dream. He instructed him to make a small barrel, from a specific kind of rare wood, and to carry it to a small spring far away from the boy's home. If he filled the barrel with water from the spring and carried it back for his father to drink, his father would be healed. The boy did as instructed, carrying the barrel alone to the spring, crossing many lands he had never known. When he returned with the water, he used a ladle he had made in his father's shop to give the water to his father. The boy sat with him until he fell asleep, and the boy wept, thinking he would never awaken again. He wept until he was exhausted and fell asleep in a chair next to his father's bed.

The following morning the boy was awoken by a hand on his shoulder. His father had been healed, and his mother had told him what his son had done to save him. They talked for hours about his adventure and how their Heavenly Father had saved them both. After his father recovered fully, he gave up his own trade, electing instead to work alongside his son. They continued to make barrels, while spreading the greatest news the world had ever known. Together they helped to spread the word that would rule benevolently, not over millions, but over everyone that ever lived.

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