A pilgrim was making his way to the Promised Land. He was carrying his master's cross, a burden
he cheerfully accepted.
Becoming weary, the pilgrim rested. As he basked in the sunshine, he watched a woodsman nearby
cut a tree in the forest."Good friend," called the pilgrim, "may I use your axe to shorten my cross?
As I journey, it grows heavier."
"Indeed," cried the woodsman, and, without hesitation, he obliged.
The pilgrim travelled on, making much progress. The cross was shorter now, and his burden lighter.
In no time at all, the Promised Land was in sight. Drawing nearer, he saw that deep gulf separated
him from the glories beyond. He would use the cross to span the divide.
Though he struggled mightily to span the divide with the cross, it fell short by the very amount he had
removed.
Suddenly, with tears streaming down his face, he awoke; it had been a dream. Clutching the cross
to his breast, the pilgrim pressed on. The cross was just as heavy, but its burden lighter.