In the year of our Lord two thousand and seven, the family on this Easter day made good the idea to ascend the mountain of the forefathers.
If a the best a party can be, is the of thy parties member; it can be said that ours was somewhat dilapidated. In order of seniority, the members were: Pierre, Guido, et al.
Heading both metaphorically and literally south, the assemblage trekked rather then bounded, and laboured long and hard to the previously unconquered summit.
The trip was as long as the road. The summit towering skyward was as high the ideals of youth.
Girding his loins with hardship and self-sacrifice, Pierre tied fast the other members to himself, as to ensure not a lamb of his flock would be lost during the perilous assent. Having progressed less than five farthings on the road of o'er a score, the self professed princess blew a head gasket and needed to be bared by the holy shoulders of Pierre.
At the tenth farthing, a bivouac was erected to feed and tend the wounds of the party. Only Pierre needed not the rest provided.
The party made short of the final ten farthings of their ascent when the venerable leader, Pierre had a vision of the party being dashed against the not insignificant rocks whose unwelcome presence marred the impending decent.
Knowing not what to do, and amid the wailing and gnashing of teeth of his party, Pierre knelt down in offering to his God, the God of Abraham, and Moses.
The Lord spoke to Pierre, and told him to stand upon the Golden Tower of Babel. Standing on the tower, the spirit moved his outstretched arm to point to the safe direction to descend.
On seeing this revelation the party no longer doubted their wise and venerable leader Pierre and hoisted him upon there shoulders and carried him down to the city of the ancients and laud his name upon high.
The picture of the prophet Pierre was henceforth venerated by the masses and many graces have been bestowed on he who trusts in his leader and follows the Lord.
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