Parable of the Bridge
Once upon a time there was a tiny hamlet in the Swiss Alps. This hamlet was in serious trouble. The well that supplied water to the village had run dry. The people began to panic. A river was near the community but located at the bottom of a deep, deep gorge, hence, no one could reach the water. Also, this happened in the middle of the summer, so the snow on the mountain had long since melted.
There was, however, across the gorge on the adjacent mountainside, another well flowing with water. An imaginative young thinker came up with a solution. He built a bridge across the gorge.
The villagers were elated.
A bucket brigade was formed immediately and the water supply was replenished. Needless to say, the bridge became very important to this group. It was their source of life.
They honored the bridge. They renamed the bridge after the builder and painted it a beautiful gold. Tinsels were strung from the bridge. Miniature bridges were built and sold in the streets. People wore them around their necks and hung them in their windows.
A committee was formed to pay homage to the bridge. Only certain people were allowed on the bridge, and then only on certain days, and then only when wearing certain clothes. The bridgekeeper became the most respected person on the mountain. No one could see or cross the bridge without his permission.
Unfortunately there were disputes within the committee. The disagreements centered around such things as whether or not a canopy should be built over the bridge. So the bridge was closed until a decision could be made.
Sadly, many villagers died of thirst while the leaders debated.
article from the 1980s filed away in my files; author unknown