The boy climbed up the grassy hill, fearless of its high altitude. Once his foothit level ground, he turned back and tumbled down again. He rolled until he couldno longer feel his own body and he knew his body was numb. Why do I do this tomyself, he wondered, I must be insane, he thought, or maybe I just need themoney. Yes, that was it. He was a poor boy trying to support his parents andthree younger siblings by charging little children a dime to watch him roll downthe great hill. Every day he reminded himself of this as his reputation fortaking risks grew.

The boy usually got up to draw more spectators to hiswondrous trick, but this time he just lay there looking up. He saw the darkclouds gather together as the sky slowly grew black. He knew his family wouldworry, but he decided to let them wait. The boy tried to sit up, but he could notfeel his arms. He turned his head slightly and felt little drops of rain ticklinghis head. He then noticed the drops falling more rapidly, but he was still unableto move. The boy lay there on the wet grass as he watched the rain wash away hisblood and heal his cuts. He began to regain feeling in his arms and was able tosit up. He slowly rose to his feet and started to walk home.

The boy criedfor every step he took in fear of returning to his family. He walked through themeadow and along the road until he finally reached the white stone wall. Histears were hidden in the rain as he sadly climbed over the high rock. The boywalked a little further and saw his family waiting for him. He silentlyapproached them in his rain-drenched clothes, but they did not greet him. Hewalked closer to them as he drew from his pockets the two shiny dimes he hadearned that evening. The boy knelt down and laid his earnings on his family'sgravestone, without shedding another tear. I'll be back tomorrow, he promised,and he turned back to climb the stone wall.