A parable, recorded as it came to me.

A distinguished lady was walking down the road when she spied a decrepit looking house ahead. Having plenty of experience with restoring dilapidated dwellings, she knocked on the front door. At length, and with the chain still clinging tighty, the door opened a crack. A young man squinted his eyes and peered out suspiciously from inside. "What do you want?" he coughed.

"Good evening sir," began the lady. "I was passing by your house, and, seeing that it is in a state of disrepair, thought that I might offer my services to renovate it."

The man unhooked the chain, and swung the door open. "I am quite insulted by your accusation!" he said, crossing his arms. "My house may not be perfect, but I assure you that it is in excellent condition!"

"I meant no offense," assured the lady. "But I beg to differ. You see, I have plenty of experience in this area, and can readily identify foundational problems."

Nonplussed, the man turned slightly, uncrossed his arms, and gestured inside his home. "I've lived here for my entire life," he said, "and the walls seem to be holding up just fine. I've never had any trouble."

The lady nodded understandingly. "That may be, but what you can't see can still kill you. As an outsider, I can identify certain surface and structural problems that you may not have noticed yourself. Why don't you let me make some suggestions? My services are free after all so you have nothing to lose."

"Would you also perform all of the repairs for free?"

"No," the lady said with a hint of remorse. "I'm afraid I don't have the resources to perform the necessary repairs."

"Well then, our conversation is futile, because even if my house were in need of grandiose repairs as you claim, I certainly don't have the skills to fix it myself, and I could not pay to have someone else to do it."

The lady's face brightened as she began to point towards the man's backyard. "What if I were to tell you that the resources to repair your house are already within your grasp?" she asked.

Mildly intrigued, the man asked "What do you mean?"

Encouraged, the lady continued. "Right now, the means to repair your house are already within your grasp. I happen to know that, right now, there is treasure buried in your backyard. All you have to do is dig it up, and it will pay to repair your entire home."

"Ridiculous!" the man scoffed. "If such a thing were true, it would already be abundantly clear to me. I wouldn't need some stranger to come and tell me."

"If what I say is true, there would be little to lose by checking. With me as your guide, it would take hardly any time at all. In fact, I would even dig it up for you and present it to you."

The man laughed. "I wouldn't bother wasting any time at all on such an idea, mine or yours. Where would this supposed treasure even come from anyways?"

The lady sighed. "I could explain it, and would be quite willing to do so, but would any explanation make your current situation any less dire? If a person is dying, what they need is the cure, not a complex scientific explanation of the chemical reactions by which the cure works. Similarly, if your house is falling down, what you need is the solution. Could you honestly say that if I explained it to you that you would then be willing to dig up the treasure with me to repair your house?"

Quickly becoming exasperated, the man protested "But I still don't believe there's anything wrong with my house!"

Remaining calm, the lady paused for a moment, seemingly collecting her thoughts. "Sir," she began, "A mouse who has spent his entire life in the city would of course be incredulous were a meadow described to him, but his confined worldview would be the problem, not the postulation of the meadow. I can't force you to accept my help. All I can ask is that you keep what I've said in mind, just in case your seemingly well-built house comes crashing down upon you, perhaps collapsing when you least expect it."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but reconsidered and quickly shut the door, leaving the lady standing on the porch outside.

He locked the door. Slid the chain into place.

Rattled the door knob a couple of times. Just to make sure.

Turning away from the door, his eyes began to dance from place to place around his home. Although he was loath to admit it, he could see the cracks in the walls. Hear the creaking foundations. And feel an ever-present -intangible and shadowy, yes, but nevertheless real- creeping sense of foreboding. In truth, he had always suspected that his house may be built upon a faulty foundation. But surely that couldn't be. After all, all his friends' homes were built the same way. And they couldn't all be wrong.

Could they?

He momentarily thought to call the lady back, but instead sternly resolved to put the matter out of his mind and continue on with his life as he always had.

Meanwhile, the lady had already began to walk on, but not before affixing a card to the man's door, urging him to call her, anytime, should he reconsider.

Filled with deep concern and sorrow, she walked on, glancing back over her shoulder at the decrepit house.

She hoped he would choose to call before it was too late.