The Sixth Story

The Stonemason

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Far, far away, in the little country of Vàldovar, by a stream of cool, clear water running through a meadow ablaze with wild flowers, there stands a pile of rocks and stones. What is so remarkable is that every rock and every stone is very, very beautiful. Some are red, others blue or green or orange; some have swirly markings of many different colours; in some there is the glint of crystals.
   Every day, two or three Valdovarians come and polish every single stone, and then place each back carefully onto the pile. At the foot of the pile of stones stands a small plaque of pink marble on which is written:
These stones lie here
In memory of
Gregorius the Stonemason
Who lived many, many years ago.


   In this story I shall tell you all about Gregorius, and you will come to understand why, even today, the people of Vàldovar still speak of him, and why they do honour to the stones.