Long before telephones, airplanes, or Federal Express Overnight Delivery, there was an efficient system for relaying messages through the Highlands of ancient Scotland. Each village had a torch runner, a brave and noble man who could carry a message swiftly to the next town at any time of night or day.
It was the runner’s responsibility to pass the torch and the message to the next runner and then to tell the news to the villagers. From one village to the next, the news traveled as quickly as the experienced runners could carry it.
One of the famed torchbearers had a son eager to follow in his father’s footsteps, and that boy worshipped his father! He loved to run out from the village each time a new message went to the next town. As the boy grew older and stronger, he could run a little farther before the torch’s flickering light disappeared through the night. At last, he could run with his father, and they walked back together after the message was delivered. At his father’s side, he learned every inch of the way.
One day, the boy’s father suddenly died. On the very night of his death, a runner arrived with an urgent message to be carried to the next town. Who would carry the torch? Who would deliver the message? As the villagers stood helpless and speechless, the lad seized the torch, read the message, and set out through the darkness for the village beyond.
Because he had seen the need and boldly jumped into the gap, his name became well-known throughout the land.
But in that same country, there lived another torch runner. His task was to carry the message from his town on the mainland to a small village at the end of a point that jutted far out into the sea. It was a long, hard journey to that village, with many hills, rocks, and paths. But he was considered a robust and brave runner.
One night, after his energy was spent hours of hard work, he heard a loud banging on the door just as he was drifting off to sleep. The flickering light of the torch outside told him there was a message to be carried to the distant point.
He quickly dressed and hurried out. Listening briefly to the news, he took the torch and entered the darkness. Just as he was out of sight, his feet felt heavy, and he could hardly lift them.
Then, suddenly, he thought of his friend, the torch runner in the village on the other side of the narrow neck of land, a short distance away. If he ran across to this town instead of going out to that little village on the point, no one would know, and the torch would continue its journey to the other towns.
So, he ran the shorter distance and gave the message to his friend. The story went on around the circuit, and all the villages of Scotland heard the news of an approaching enemy—except one.
That night, the enemy came from the northern sea. The first place they struck was that one little village that jutted out into the sea. Because the people there were sleeping and did not get the message, the enemy was able to conquer them and go on to do extensive damage throughout the land.