The One Who Stood Still

Ages ago, deep in the Yamuna, there existed a little island temple hardly heard of by the world. It would be cut off by floods, but within dwelt an aged hermit named Devraaj—barefoot, bareheaded, and unmoved by time. The villagers on the other side of the river considered him crazy. "He talks to the wind," they'd tell each other, having a laugh.

One year, in a monsoon, the waters came higher than ever. A raging flood swept over the land, engulfing fields, houses, and even temples. The people ran panic-stricken to the top of the hills. Only Devraaj remained—sitting on the temple steps, eyes shut tight, chanting softly. "Why don't you run?" cried the boatmen from a distance.

"If I get up, the soul of this place will be gone forever," he said, unflinching.

As the waters swelled, something odd occurred. The river wrapped around the island but never crossed its boundaries. The temple was left unmoved. When the floods went away, not a single brick had dislodged.

Human beings spoke of a miracle. Pilgrims eventually came in numbers, slowly—though not due to grandeur, but because of the humble man who believed when others believed only in fear. The island was once again remembered. It became a site of strength.

Years after, Devraaj vanished at dawn. Some claim that he went into the river and walked away, others that he turned into the wind he used to talk to. But up to today, on the outer wall of the temple, someone has etched these words:

"It takes but one flame to light a thousand."

Moral: 

Strength does not lie in quantity, but in unshakeable conviction.

Inspiration:

The strength of a thousand is not as powerful as the strength of one with faith. - Maharishi Vyasa