The Hermit and the Executives

An elderly hermit lived on a mountain only a few miles from a great city. He had lived there all his life, spending his days in a cave where he kept enough to eat and a place to sleep. When the weather was warm, he would sit outside his cave and say hello to the hikers who climbed the difficult paths to the top. He was well-known in the area, and many people gave him food and stopped to talk. They always came away feeling differently about themselves; his mild eyes and his piercing stare were a combination that led many people to change their way of life. Some admired him, but others feared him, and no one ever challenged him.

At the same time, a huge company in the nearby city had plans to expand. One thing stood in the way  the mountain. One thing stood in the way of clearing away the land on the mountain  the hermit. At a board meeting, attended by all the important executives, it was decided that someone had to visit the hermit and convince him that it was a good idea to move. They would offer him any amount of money; they would find him another place to live; they would do whatever he wanted. However, the executives knew that the hermit was a popular and stubborn man, and that it would not be easy.

"I volunteer!" said Eric Wellington. Eric was the Vice President of Finance; he was only in his late thirties, but he was already at the top of the corporate world. He had been born into privilege, moving from prep school to Harvard, and then on to Harvard Business School. He had joined the company immediately, and had moved up through the ranks to the top at a rapid pace. Now he was successful, respected, and wealthy. It was true that he his wife had left him, complaining of his lack of concern for anything but his job, and it was true that he did not have friends  only business acquaintances  but for a man in his position, such things mattered little. He looked upon the visit to the hermit as a challenge; he volunteered happily, unaware that many of the more seasoned executives looked at him with surprise and hesitation. They had heard rumors about the hermit's difficult temperament, and his refusal to negotiate.

Therefore, it was decided that Eric would make the trip. The following day, he left his BMW at home and took the company limousine the thirty miles to the mountain. The driver found the one road leading up to the one path that approached the top, and drove the car as far as he could. Finally, realizing that he would have to walk, Eric told the driver to park and stepped out.

Anyone passing Eric that cool windy day on the mountain would have been impressed by him: Tall, dignified, distinguished, he looked the part of the very successful businessman, as he straightened the jacket of his custom tailored $3,000 navy blue pinstriped suit, smoothed out his burgundy silk tie and matching pocket handkerchief and starched white dress shirt, checked his gold cufflinks to make sure they fell below his cuffs, brushed off his $1500 briefcase and ran his manicured hand over his neatly combed blond hair which ruffled in the breeze. He spent $100 every two weeks to have his hair cut, and felt it was worth it to maintain his image.