The pilgrim had walked a long way with more than memories in his pack. There were letters meant for distant friends, drawings too precious to leave behind, and parcels that belonged in other hands.
At the end of the road, he found a small house with a light in the window.
He stepped inside and set down his burden. The keeper asked where it needed to go. Then he gave the pilgrim a single token: something he could pass to the person waiting at the other end.
No one else needed to know what he had carried. The pilgrim took the token, thanked the keeper, and stepped back into the morning.
His pack was lighter now.
The journey of its contents had only just begun.
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