This Is a True Story...

This Is a True Story...
About Guts

After Ginger celebrated New Year’s Eve, I told her another nighttime story about a famous person. I did the same thing on Christmas Eve by reading The Story of the Other Wise Man by Henry van Dyke. Interestingly, there is a similarity in both stories. The central character on Christmas Eve was Artaban, while the other’s name was Maxime.

I tried explaining where Maxime was born to Ginger by saying he was born in France. Ginger knows that Artaban was from Persia. I must show her some time where France is located on a map.

Maxime was a dreamer like Artaban. He had a litany of goals he wanted to achieve by the time he reached twenty-three. Ginger responded to my comment. She asked, “What’s with twenty-three?” I told her that Maxime had a mentor, Alexander the Great. He became the King of Persia when he was that age.

I went on about Maxime and his goals. It seemed like everything that he wanted to turn to gold failed. This is a photo taken of Maxime when he was twenty-three. He seemed dejected, having tried various goals.

By this time, Ginger was into the story of Maxime. I continued to enumerate his quests, which didn’t result in the way that he had intended. Instead of merely telling Ginger more details, I asked Ginger what she would have been Maxime.

Ginger pondered for a moment and finally said that he should follow in the footsteps of Artaban. Giving up, Ginger thought, wasn’t a good idea.

I concurred with Ginger’s suggestion. And then added an interesting point. His mother chose the name of her baby. Maxime is a French name that comes from Latin, which means greatness. During trying times, Maxime remembers what his mother named him.

Since he was twenty-three, Maxime pushed himself to accomplish many goals. He accomplished biking up a part of a French mountain range. Ginger was fascinated by Maxime’s accomplishment.

After a moment, Ginger inquired where Maxime had biked up the mountain. I told Ginger that I didn’t know for sure. The mountain was around the city of Grenoble. It might have been Chamechaude, which is about fifteen miles north of Grenoble.

This is Chamechaude.

To end my story about Maxime’s journey down his yellow brick road, I asked Ginger about her takeaway. It didn’t take Ginger a nanosecond and replied, “Pick a mentor, and never quit trying.”

On Seeing the Light