“Your Majesty, there was an attempt to take over your throne by that jealous Duke Maskil!”

Your Majesty, war has broken out in the kingdom of Tsumisht due to the squabbles of the two lords who rule there!”

The king laughed and thought to himself, “I’ve just returned, but it’s as though I’d never left. What a welcome!”

The king was back into numerous meetings, conferences and consultations. Many documents and papers needed urgent review by the king. Many dignitaries and officials waited anxiously to speak to him. His advisors busied themselves giving him advice he didn’t ask for. After several hours of a grueling schedule, food was brought before him. Doctors surrounded the king, telling him what to eat and what not to eat, what to drink and what not to drink.

Later that night, when he had a few quiet moments to himself in his throne room, the king thought, “It is the perfect time to hum the very special melody.” He leaned back, closed his eyes, relaxed, and imagined that he was in the valley. He began to hum. The melody didn’t sound right. He tried several times, but the king could not remember the song.

The king tried again and again to hum, to remember some piece of the melody, but he could not do it. He couldn’t remember one note of the melody that had that had no beginning and no end; gone too were the feelings, tremors and shivers that it had inspired.

There was pounding at the door now. “Your Majesty, the Duke of the Northern Kingdom has arrived. He must speak with you instantly. He has very important news. He may be able to settle the dispute among his lords.”

“Alright. Bring him in,” said the exhausted, tired king.

The king found himself in endless meetings, trying to make peace among his advisors. Sadly, the king thought to himself, “Life in the palace is so hectic and stressful. If only I could remember that melody.”

All through the meetings the king’s eyes kept drifting off into the distance. He heard almost nothing that was being said. He kept thinking, “The valley, the melody . . . if only I could remember that melody.”

That night the king tossed and turned in his bed. He could not console himself on the loss of the melody, and it seemed to be affecting his health.

In the wee hours of the night, the king’s private doctor was called in. The king looked pale and worn. He would not respond to any of his servants and only moaned, “If only I could remember the song.”The doctor looked into the king’s eyes and said, “Your Majesty, I have an idea. Why don’t we take you back to the valley? Why don’t we find the shepherd who played that melody? The shepherd can be brought right here to the palace, and he can play the melody for you. You can find peace and regain your health.”

The king looked at the doctor, and a smile spread across his face. “You are brilliant. Why that is the simplest idea. Let’s do that immediately.”

“Your Majesty, it is still night. Why don’t you get some rest and early in the morning, we will send our fastest couriers to the valley to find that shepherd and bring him here. I am confident that you will then be cured.”

The king relieved by the advice of the doctor, relaxed and fell asleep within minutes. He slept soundly until the sun rose in the sky.

As soon as the early light of morning allowed a safe journey, the king was up and waiting at his coach. “I must go off to the valley.”

“But, Your Majesty, the meetings . . . .”

“They’ll have to wait. This is much more important.”

It was only hours later that the king, along with twenty of his best soldiers, was standing at the foot of the valley. All they had to do now was wait for the shepherd. They waited for a long time, but the shepherd never came.

The king ordered his soldiers to go to the nearby village and ask, “Does anyone know a shepherd who plays a beautiful melody on the flute? Has anyone seen the shepherd who grazes his sheep in the valley?” they asked of anyone they met.

Sadly, no one knew, no one heard. The king decided to wait another day, hoping the shepherd would come then. The king and his soldiers waited in the valley. Everyone hoped that the morning would bring the shepherd and his melody.

Morning came but still no shepherd. The waiting began again. By now some of the king’s advisors seriously doubted whether the king had not made a mistake. Some began to question in a hushed whisper, “Is our king’s mind still sound?” The doctor believed that the king had indeed heard the shepherd’s melody in this place.

At the end of the third day, the sad king his coach and left with his soldier escort. His dream was crushed.

As soon as he got to the palace, the king shut himself in his throne room. No one was allowed to see him except his trusted doctor. The servants tiptoed through the hallways, and a sense of sadness hung over the palace.

The king’s advisors called meetings to determine what should be done for the king. They all agreed that he was getting sicker each day and that the shepherd must be found at all costs. They decided that a royal proclamation that would be heard throughout the land.

“Hear ye, hear ye…let it be known throughout the kingdom that any shepherd who can play the amazing melody that has no beginning and no end must make his way to the palace at once. He who can play the melody that the king remembers shall be handsomely rewarded.”

The word spread, and within a few days, a long line of shepherds formed at the palace gates. Hundreds of shepherds of all shapes and sizes, flutes in hand, waited for their chance to play their song before the king.

The king, hearing the commotion looked out, and was surprised to see the long line of shepherds.”What has happened here? Who are all these people?” he asked.

“Shepherds, Your Majesty,” said one of the advisors. “They have come here to try to play your song for you.”

“So many of them? Why, they are a bunch of imposters! Only one can know the melody for which I long.”

“That may be so, Your Majesty, but only you know right melody.

The first shepherd was brought before the king. He had only played three or four notes of his song when the king slammed his fist angrily on the table and said, “No! You are an impostor!” Quickly, the shepherd was left the throne room.

The same thing happened with the next shepherd and the next. Every shepherd began to play but was stopped almost immediately by the king and sent out. The king lost his patience. “The next impostor who steps across the threshold of my throne room will be put to death!” he thundered.

Afraid for their lives, the remaining shepherds quickly disappeared. The king sank back into sadness, and the advisors and the doctor were beside themselves with worry.

Days later, it finally happened! From a faraway valley, a shepherd appeared at the palace gates. The shepherd was brought immediately before the king. He bowed and humbly said, “Your Majesty, I am the shepherd that you await. My melody certainly has no beginning and no end, and I know the valley of which you speak. I would be honored to play my melody for you.”

The king looked pleased. He liked the look of this shepherd. As a matter of fact, although he could no longer remember exactly what his shepherd had looked like, this shepherd had a familiar look about him. He motioned to him, “Do sit down. Do play the melody for me.”

The shepherd sat himself down on the floor and said, “Your Majesty, please close your eyes and imagine that you are in the valley. All around you, you see the grass, the blue sky, the sheep, and you hear the echo of this melody.”

The king smiled. He threw his head back in anticipation and listened. The shepherd began to play a mystical song, a song that sounded like a gift from heaven, and the king listened very intently. The shepherd played about five minutes and then he stopped to rest. He looked up at the king. The king’s eyes were tightly closed, and for a long moment he did not say anything. When he opened his eyes, the king took a very long look at the shepherd. There was a deep furrow in his forehead. Softly, he said, “Please, will you play that melody one more time?”

“Certainly, Your Majesty. It would be my pleasure, but remember, lean back, relax and empty your mind of its worries, just as you did when you lay in the valley. Then concentrate on the sounds that come from this flute.”

“Yes, yes,” said the king, “go ahead.”

Again, the shepherd played his soulful melody. Tears streamed down from the eyes of the king.

When the music stopped, the king looked as if he had been shaken from a dream. The king started in his chair and said, “I’m not sure. This might be it. Please, shepherd, play it one more time.”

One more time, the shepherd lifted the flute to his mouth, and the
gentle notes filled the room with a sense of peace.

For a long time, the shepherd played. The king swayed back and forth, listening with great intensity to every note. The tears were all over his cheeks now.

At the end the king blinked several times. He then opened his eyes. It was hard to see clearly through all the tears. He patted his eyes dry and in a small voice said, “Thank you very much. You may go now.”

Excuse me, Your Majesty. Do you mean that I should wait outside?”

“No, I’m sorry,” said the king. “I’m afraid that it’s the wrong song after all. Your song is truly wonderful, and you play the flute masterfully, but still your song is not the right song. For a while there, I thought I had a glimmer of hope that it was, but I’m sorry, it is not.”

The shepherd sat down quietly for a moment. Then he looked deep into the eyes of the king and said, “Your Majesty, would you be so kind as to allow me to ask you one question?”

“Go ahead,” said the king. “You have been most helpful. You may ask your question.”

“Your Majesty,” said the shepherd, “if you do not remember the melody that you heard in the valley, how do you know that this is not it? Perhaps this is the melody that you have forgotten, Your Majesty.”

The king nodded several times. “That is a very good question. How do I know? How will I ever know when I finally hear the song for which I am yearning?”

“My dear shepherd, when I will hear the right melody, my soul will shake. My body will tremble. You see, that is what happened when I heard the song for the first time, and that is what happened each time I heard it again.”

“Today as I listened to your beautiful music, no tingles, no shivers and no trembling overtook me. That’s how I know that it is the wrong song. When the day comes and I hear the right song, I am certain that I will again experience the same feelings that I did every other time that I heard it. But until then, I cannot settle for a substitute. I must wait for the song that reaches my soul.”

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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