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‎alchemist60.html

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<!DOCTYPE html>
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<html lang="en">
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<head>
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<meta charset="UTF-8">
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<meta http-equiv="X-UA-Compatible" content="IE=edge">
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<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
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<title>the alchemist</title>
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<link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css">
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</head>
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<body>
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<div class="container" >
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<div id="myHeader" class="header">
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<a href="index.html"><button class="home-button">Home</button></a>
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<button class="bookmark-button">Bookmark</button>
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<div class="wrapper">
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<input type="text" id="text-to-search" placeholder="Enter text to search...">
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<button onclick="search()">Search</button>
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</div>
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</div>
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<h6>Author</h6>
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<h1>Paulo Coelho</h1>
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<h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6>
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<p id="paragraph">
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THE BOY RODE ALONG THROUGH THE DESERT FOR SEVERAL hours, listening
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avidly to what his heart had to say. It was his heart that would tell
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him where his treasure was hidden.
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“Where your treasure is, there also will be your heart,” the
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alchemist had told him.
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But his heart was speaking of other things. With pride, it told the
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story of a shepherd who had left his flock to follow a dream he had
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on two different occasions. It told of Personal Legend, and of the
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many men who had wandered in search of distant lands or beautiful
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women, confronting the people of their times with their
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preconceived notions. It spoke of journeys, discoveries, books, and
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change.
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As he was about to climb yet another dune, his heart whispered,
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“Be aware of the place where you are brought to tears. That’s where
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I am, and that’s where your treasure is.”
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The boy climbed the dune slowly. A full moon rose again in the
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starry sky: it had been a month since he had set forth from the oasis.
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The moonlight cast shadows through the dunes, creating the
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appearance of a rolling sea; it reminded the boy of the day when
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that horse had reared in the desert, and he had come to know the
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alchemist. And the moon fell on the desert’s silence, and on a man’s
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journey in search of treasure.
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When he reached the top of the dune, his heart leapt. There,
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illuminated by the light of the moon and the brightness of the
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desert, stood the solemn and majestic Pyramids of Egypt.
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The boy fell to his knees and wept. He thanked God for making
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him believe in his Personal Legend, and for leading him to meet a
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king, a merchant, an Englishman, and an alchemist. And above all
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for his having met a woman of the desert who had told him that love
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would never keep a man from his Personal Legend.
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If he wanted to, he could now return to the oasis, go back to
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Fatima, and live his life as a simple shepherd. After all, the alchemist
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continued to live in the desert, even though he understood the
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Language of the World, and knew how to transform lead into gold.
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He didn’t need to demonstrate his science and art to anyone. The
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boy told himself that, on the way toward realizing his own Personal
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Legend, he had learned all he needed to know, and had experienced
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everything he might have dreamed of.
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But here he was, at the point of finding his treasure, and he
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reminded himself that no project is completed until its objective has
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been achieved. The boy looked at the sands around him, and saw
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that, where his tears had fallen, a scarab beetle was scuttling
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through the sand. During his time in the desert, he had learned that,
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in Egypt, the scarab beetles are a symbol of God.
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Another omen! The boy began to dig into the dune. As he did so,
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he thought of what the crystal merchant had once said: that anyone
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could build a pyramid in his backyard. The boy could see now that
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he couldn’t do so if he placed stone upon stone for the rest of his life.
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Throughout the night, the boy dug at the place he had chosen,
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but found nothing. He felt weighted down by the centuries of time
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since the Pyramids had been built. But he didn’t stop. He struggled
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to continue digging as he fought the wind, which often blew the
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sand back into the excavation. His hands were abraded and
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exhausted, but he listened to his heart. It had told him to dig where
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his tears fell.
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As he was attempting to pull out the rocks he encountered, he
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heard footsteps. Several figures approached him. Their backs were
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to the moonlight, and the boy could see neither their eyes nor their
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faces.
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“What are you doing here?” one of the figures demanded.
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Because he was terrified, the boy didn’t answer. He had found
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where his treasure was, and was frightened at what might happen.
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“We’re refugees from the tribal wars, and we need money,” the
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other figure said. “What are you hiding there?”
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“I’m not hiding anything,” the boy answered.
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But one of them seized the boy and yanked him back out of the
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hole. Another, who was searching the boy’s bags, found the piece of
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gold.
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</p>
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<div>
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<h5 class="pageNumber">Page 60</h5>
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<a href="alchemist59.html" class="previous">&laquo; Previous</a>
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<a href="alchemist61.html" class="next">Next &raquo;</a>
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</div>
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</div>
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<!-- script -->
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<script src="script.js"></script>
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</body>
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</html>

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