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Once upon a time, in a faraway place, there was a vast pit in the center of a village. The pit was so deep its bottom could scarcely be seen from above. The villagers tossed all their trash into it, and because the pit was so enormous, they never feared it would overfill. The mayor appointed a caretaker, and each day the old, haggard woman tamped down the garbage and covered it with dirt so the foul odors would not rise and trouble the villagers. As the years passed, the villagers discovered that the pit was also a convenient place to hide their misdeeds and unkind thoughts. Once thrown into the darkness, they no longer had to face their behavior or their loveless impulses. The poor caretaker worked tirelessly, day and night, to contain the stench of the ever-growing heap. But because she never complained, the villagers failed to notice that the pit was swelling — growing higher and wider with every passing day. They simply walked around it without a second glance. The mountain of garbage became part of the scenery, accepted as normal. Until one day, something happened that had never happened before. A roaring sound erupted from the center of the pit — an ominous rumbling that shook the ground beneath the village. The earth quivered and cracked. A groaning, thunderous bellow echoed across the land. Flames burst forth, sending ash into the sky, darkening the villagers’ homes and leaving a bitter taste in their mouths. https://www.pathwaysoflight.org/index.php/Miracles_News/full_article/13220