Nice piece. It touched me personally and it reminds me of my relationship my father. Thank you for sharing!

 hi, debbie--

i've been meaning to get back to this story to critique it for a little while. i'm glad i did! i think you were successful in many aspects--you set a tone of reflection well, and your pacing added to that feeling, and your descriptions were often lovely.

With a finger carefully pointed at the desecrated ruins, the father spoke to his son.  In quiet reverence, head tilted to the side, the father sought to answer those troubling questions of “when” and “why.”  The boy glanced, with eyes darting, first to his father then to the ancient rubble on the hill and back again.  Listen well my son, the older man said:

you give us a few clues here, about the ruins. words like "desecrated" and "reverent" imply holy ground, possibly older than any established religion, and this drew me in to the mystery. i love these words, and applaud your using them. in general, i'd try to find ways of illustrating the characters' state of mind, rather than relying on adverbs as an "easy out". in your first sentence, you use the word "carefully" when describing how the father points to the ruins. i'm not clear on your intention with this word choice--not sure if the father was careful to point in a respectful manner, or careful in his pointing out of unease with the place? i think you could use this moment to deepen the mystery further with strong description or action, as well as offer illumination into the father's state of mind here. i also wasn't sure who was asking the "troubling questions", or why they were troubling.  the boy seems cautious, eyeing the ruins as he talks to his father, and that intrigues me--i wanna know what the story of these ruins is!

“Once a building stood here . . . a wondrous creation crafted by many loving hands.  It started on bedrock and bit by bit the stones were placed, with careful attention to minute details, in accordance to the overall plan.  That master plan was known only by one, the architect, yet still, he let each person know his duties and no questions were asked.

 

“Slowly the building took form but it was years in the making . . .the going was not easy for construction was halted in winter months and vandals would come from time to time to plunder the work already completed.

 

“Still”, the man mused, “the building came to being, already holding a history of labor and love.  Its shell finished- craftsmen came to render final touches.  Woodworkers, blacksmiths, carpenters . . . all lent their hands . . . creating a vision of beauty on display for the world.

this feels to me like an allegory for the church, both the lifestory of a physical church and the ideological development of religion as a source of strength and safety. this is lovely. i say that it feels to me like a metaphor because while i'm sure this must be a metaphor, i'm not positive of the comparison being made. this could be my obtuseness, and the comparison is clear as day and beautiful to boot, but it feels a bit muted as i read. i feel the weight of your words, but am not confident of the message. you do a wonderful job here of deepening that reverent tone i mentioned. phrases like "crafted by many loving hands" and "a history of labor and love" hold several key words: hands, labor, love. all powerful words speaking of connection. really nice. also, more hints of your extended metaphor: "architect" (as in, THE architect), "carpenters" (and others who work with their hands, as Jesus did). you're building this comparison, and in a subtle way--you're allowing the reader to develop their feelings for these ancient ruins on a few different levels.

Many travelers sought refuge here.  They would come, weary from their journeys, hoping to find solace and peace.  They came wanting a few precious hours of laughter, to be reunited with loved ones, or to rest in the comfort of warming blazes or food and drink.

 

“The building’s life became rich.  Its history was vibrant with the echoes of so many people passing in and out through its door.  And as the seasons passed, it saw its lean times as well as those times when the abundance of love and laughter within the walls stretched it to bursting.

oh, yeah, here we are. i'm a total sucker for symbol, and this story is getting under my skin. i like the message of finding peace within--literally, within this building, but also within as connected to soul, to self-knowledge, to community (and communion). that this was a place of joy comes through clearly, and a place free of judgement, as well. the people brought it to life with their energy and heart (another connection there between this building and an ideaology). you also created solid descriptions here (my favorites in boldface), evoking another time and way of life.

“As the years sped by, the building started becoming a bit shabby and worn.  Its carpets threadbare and floorboards creaking, it was content with its place in history knowing it had had meaning in its becoming.  It was at peace knowing it had eased so many aching feet on the hassocks within or helped a few poor souls find rest for a while, both those with coins and without.

 

“When finally its walls began decaying, it did not mind so much as those floors began splintering into sawdust.  Heavily laid inside the plaster slowly crumbling was the quiet knowledge its purpose had been fulfilled and completed – the time had come to end the existence it had known.”

interesting, that this structure developed a consciousness. this plays against my metaphor idea, the ruins as spiritual belief. hm. but interesting, that this building had taken on an intent of its own. i'm not sure if the repetitive use of the word "it" is intentional, reiterating the structure as an object, an inert structure, but this conflicts a bit with the previous paragraphs which seemed to characterize the haven built with love over several years as taking on the flavor of those who took refuge within. i'm finding a bit of wordiness which slows the pace for me, and distracts from your message in these spots. i underlined the few instances i noticed in this quote. these could be deliberate, efforts to keep the reverent tone, but i'm not sure they work completely well.

The man paused, gathering his breath slowly as he gazed intently at his son.  With words tenderly spoken He continued, “This, my son, is a story I give to you as a gift.  Remember it well when times seem far too harsh to bear or when running away from your problems becomes an increasingly enticing thought.”

a-HA! you've slipped another clue in here: "With words tenderly spoken He continued..." i like the fable feel of this story, the allegorical setting, and i understand the urge to keep the lesson general for the most universal appeal. i think maybe the lesson expressed as a negative (don't do this) rather than a positive (in difficult times, turn to this) weakens the impact of the message. i'm also a bit fuzzy on the specific message in your last paragraph. maybe working to further enhance the father's story to his son would drive it home? or using a more direct expression of the sentiment in the summary? i'm not for spelling things out, or blowing the metaphor, but i think there's gotta be a way to clarify this lesson. when times are difficult, turn to your fellow man for support? however long you live, you will eventually age and cease to be? i'm not sure how the story illustrates the lesson against running away from problems. see, i'm all confused. again, this is probably just me. (but maybe not...?)

overall, a wonderful story, debbie--i liked very much your approach to the story and how you established a loving tone. thank you for writing and posting this story. i enjoyed reading.

The entire allegory as I so intepret the work as, is rich in imagery and metaphor.  The structure of the work is also tight as there is a constant theme of a labour of love with regards to the house being built and puit together for a purpose. I like the description of the building at the end where it seemed to have lived a meaningful life and had contributed to the wellbeing of many travelers and dwellers.  

Heavily laid inside the plaster slowly crumbling was the quiet knowledge its purpose had been fulfilled and completed – the time had come to end the existence it had known.”

There is a unity of tone throughout the work with the mood well set in a serious yet caring manner, which shows us the close bond between father and son. In how the father tries to answer the questions of his son and how he takes the time to explain the entire story behind the ruins.

sought to answer those troubling questions of “when” and “why.”

It is a beautiful work in terms of prose and in terms of allegorical teaching, however the moral behind the story isn't very clear.

the master architect is mentioned at the start of the story as being the person being in control and of having a purpose and plan in building the mansion. However, he is dropped like a hot potato in the rest of the story  and at the end, it is the house that has taken on its own existence and

it did not mind so much as those floors began splintering into sawdust. 

Perhaps, it could be written here that the Master's plan was done (in accordance to judeo-christian themes very prominent in this piece) ,

Also the last paragraph in which the father tells his son 

 this story I give to you as a gift.  Remember it well when times seem far too harsh to bear or when running away from your problems becomes an increasingly enticing thought.”

isn't very clear as to what lesson his son is supposed to learn. The story is about the master's plan in building a mansion for the people and creating a labour of love. Perhaps the ending might be clearer if the father said something like so is our home open to your for this purpose or something to that effect. It would also would have been a clearer allegory of lesson to the son and to us readers, had the building not taken on a mind of its own.

However, overall a beautifully written allegory.