In a small town, by the Hillside, there dwelt a modest family in a small home.
And each day, the father of that household would say to his only son:
Soon, you shall become a man and you shall go forth
and take upon yourself a bride who will bear you many children.
And the firstborn son, you shall name after me according to our tradition.
For then, I shall go to my grave in peace.
This son gladly listened to his father.
And when he had come of age, he went forth beyond the Hill and disappeared for a long while.
However, the boy's vision and understanding differed from his father's.
After many seasons, this son reappeared alone atop the Hill.
Then, slowly upon the landscape, many began to appear behind him, men and women of all ages.
And all of them descended the Hill as one and headed towards his father's house.
The father greeted his son at the threshold with a puzzling look upon his face.
And the son smiled and said:
Father, I bring you many children.
But his father was not amused.
He spoke unto his only son saying:
Do you mock me?
You have neither taken to yourself a wife nor have you born any infants.
Now flee from my sight; for I do not wish to have a son who does not obey his father's command nor the tradition of our god.
With sorrow, this young man turned about and gathered all those who came with him
and returned beyond the Hill.
And as his father had done, he sent the people forth
that they may bear grandchildren who would establish a new village
far from the traditions of men and the required obedience of jealous gods.
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