On a high mountain cliff, which seemed like a huge and eternal stone giant that had been looming over the raging sea for centuries, stood the house of a lonely poor man. The poor shack, which had faithfully served this hunter and fisherman for years, had recently become dilapidated due to the constant onslaught of the winds that raged on the mountain. The broken windows, the door that had been torn off its hinges, and the tilted weather vane all served as constant reminders of the better times when the poor man's health was still solid, his hands were strong, and his eyes shone with the joy of life.
Much had changed since the death of his wife, who had passed away before she could give birth to children. All his joy and strength had gradually faded away, as if they had been swept by the howling winds of the night, and since then, it seemed as if he had not truly lived, but rather merely endured the time given to him by God. As of now, he rarely ventured into the forests for hunting, and even less often descended the cliff to the sea to fish with his hidden on the shore boat. As soon as he stepped outside the boundaries of his run-down home, his legs were weighed down by an invisible burden that had been weighing on his heart for several years. When you no longer have a will to live, everything seems futile.
One rainy and stormy day, he stood outside his home, listening to the rumbling thunder of the heavens and observing the bright flashes of light in the distant sky. The wind was raging on the mountaintop, like a wild beast that had broken free from its seemingly eternal imprisonment. With its immense natural power, it bent the pliable branches of the tall trees, swirled the leaves in a frenzied dance, and tore up clumps of earth, carelessly tossing them at his feet. The rain poured down that evening as if the Almighty God himself had decided to shed his long-held tears upon this sinful earth, as a punishment for humanity's grave sins. Frightened by the mighty storm, small animals leaped out from behind the trees and rushed madly toward the rocky cliff, as if searching for their last desperate redemption in the raging sea below. The storm was so powerful that it forced the poor man to cover his ears and shield his eyes with his hands.
As a result, not immediately did he see or hear what the storm did to his timeworn home. The new gust of wind, like a predator swooping down on a defenseless victim, effortlessly tore off the thatched roof of his house and carried its fragments away, tumbling and laughing wildly. The torrential downpour from the heavens flooded the fireplace and the bed, submerging the modest wooden furnishings of his home. The majestic, blinding flash of lightning descended upon him like a divine punishment. The deafening roar of thunder that followed plunged him into complete silence. After this strike from the heavens, the poor man could no longer see or hear what happened next. Stunned and as if blinded, he collapsed to the wet ground, unable to move, and lost consciousness in a flash of pain.
When he finally regained consciousness, the tempest had already passed. The stormy clouds parted, and the radiant sun emerged. It shone directly into his face, reflecting its countless rays in the raindrops. With a groan, the poor man rose from the ground, shielding his weak eyes with his hands and trying to make out what was happening around him. His despair was overwhelming when he saw that his dilapidated home had been reduced to burned and scattered ruins by the storm. From that cursed day onward, he no longer had home or future.
In great sorrow, he crawled on his knees among the ashes of his home, collecting it in his hands, smearing them on his face, and then throwing them away, lamenting the harsh fate and overwhelming burdens of his life. His despair and suffering became so immense that at one point he decided that he had had enough. On his knees, he crawled towards a mountain cliff, determined to end this worthless and miserable life that the cruel Maker had bestowed upon him. Finally, when he reached the edge of the cliff, he stood up and looked down at the raging, foaming sea, which was illuminated by the rising sun.
"It's decided," he thought in despair. "It's all over now. I don't want to live like this anymore."
"Wait!" a faint voice whispered in his mind. "Now you can start living differently!"
"Who's talking to me?" the poor man asked, shaking his head violently and coming out of his daze.
"It's me, the wind!" a gust of air whispered, carrying leaves near his face. "I'm the wind of change!"
"I'm going crazy!" the poor man exclaimed. "Now I'm hearing invisible voices calling for me. I have to end this once and for all!"
With these thoughts, he took a resolute step towards the cliff.
"Look up!" the voice whispered again.
Where the invisible voice had pointed to the desperate poor man, the midday sun shone brightly in the sky. In an instant, it warmed his face and dried his tears. Then, with a reluctant smile on the corners of his parched lips, he asked his invisible companion once again, "Why do you call yourself the wind of change?"
"Close your eyes and open your heart," the voice replied. "Then you will understand."
With his eyes closed and his breath held, the poor man stood a few steps away from the cliff, swaying from side to side like a tree in the wind. He had no idea how much time had passed. With his eyes closed, he saw vast meadows and rivers stretching out before him, and he soared high above the snow-capped mountains, only to plummet back down into the mountain waterfalls. He laughed with joy as he flew over the astonished people who were still rooted to the ground. He soared into the clouds and danced among them. He no longer wanted to fall. Now he longed to fly!
"Do you finally understand now?" the invisible speaker whispered gently in the poor man's ear with a new gust of wind, as soon as the man opened his tear-filled eyes once more. "You had to break free from the hustle and bustle of the earth to become one with the sky. Now you have nothing left to lose. The world is yours! Your path is up! Fly on the wings of the wind!"
"Fly!" a chorus of shimmering, ethereal voices filled the poor man's mind. "Fly on the wings of the wind of change!"
At that very moment, an incredibly strong gust of air enveloped him, as if an invisible, powerful hand had effortlessly lifted his body off the ground, carrying him higher and higher. As he looked down at the ruins of his former temporary home, he felt a sense of wonder and excitement, as if he could easily reach out and touch the treetops of the sky, like a giant floating in the air.
"Now you've become a messenger of wonder!" the wind sang in his ears. "Fly to the people! Now you're a symbol of change!"