Page 2 - The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho

There are some books that go beyond being special. Jonathan Livingston Seagull, The
Little Prince, Conversations With God and The Prophet would all make the list. I’d like
to add one more, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It is the story of Santiago, a shepard in
Spain. He sets off to find a treasure by the pyramids in Egypt that is spoken of in a
reoccurring dream. A story as old as the pyramids themselves. Along the way, he finds
out that his journey is about discovering his Personal Legend, touching the Soul of the
World, and learning what love is really about; as well as getting the loot. We learn as we
travel with Santiago many of the valuable lessons of life, and uncover many of the
mysteries. “The wise men understood that this natural world is only an image and a copy
of paradise. The existence of this world is simply a guarantee that there exists a world
that is perfect. God created the world so that, through its visible objects, men could
understand his spiritual teachings and the marvels of his wisdom.” Now come with
Santiago and me as we stroll the fields of Spain, and ride on camel and horseback
through the sands of the great African desert. And, learn as he did, “I’m an adventurer,
looking for treasure.” The adventure awaits! Enjoy!
The Alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing
through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to
contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell
into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called
the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the
lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.

“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.

“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always
pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”

“But...was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.

“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by
your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!”

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because,
each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty
reflected.”