Cryp.to.Currency

I was a child who witnessed too much of the world through the struggles of my father and the pains of my mother. I watched money become the root to all of life’s challenges and mans over all greed.

They both managed their best and sacrificed for my siblings and I and those in our province.

A young boy from a family with great means and financial privilege fell gravely ill one day. My grandmother was the town healer, and their last hope in search of legendary healing even money couldn’t buy.

I was the same age at the time and could only put bits and pieces together as to what was happening and why. My grandmother demanded that the family of the young boy stay their distance and to return in two weeks times. then and only then would they have their son back happy and healthy. The family did as my grandmother instructed and left immediately with plans on returning in time to a healthy son.

Grandmother also demanded that we her family also keep our distance, all except me. She whispered something in my ear after all had departed and grabbed me by the hand. I stood in wait by her side and watched the flames of the fire she lit to heat water for tea. The boy was laid to rest in the room behind us.

Tea was always served by grandmother when guest arrived in search of healing, this time grandmother served the tea to me

That night grow long but ran slower than any night I have ever had. Grandmother and I laughed and spoke to each other more than I had even heard her speak. I still can not truly remember what brought me to such a state of joy and acceptance.

Eventually I fell asleep and woke to my grandmother heating another pot over the fire. I hadn’t seen this pot before and I would have know if my father had brought anything new in from the city. The pot was filled with something dark that smelled very unpleasant, it was almost alive atop the flames. It didn’t bubble like most liquids did over heat, it was like it swimming in the pot. It made a sound unlike anything I had heard when grandmother stirred it and spoke to it.

Grandmother took a cup of the unique liquid and served it to the ill boy. He struggled consuming the hot liquid for a moment but then with ease as grandmother spoke something to him in a language I did not understand. Time passed and the boy rose from his sleep and walked to my grandmother and sat by the fire.

After a moment I finally got a good look at him. I found myself speechless and confused. He looked at me with the same thoughts. We starred at each other for some time in silence before my grandmother told me to show him what my responsibilities are on our farm.

I too am the first born son.

For what seemed longer that a years time I showed the boy my daily duties of tending to our crops and live stock. When night came we would gather around the fire with grandmother to drink tea and talk of what we learned from one another.

In this time the boy was no longer ill and had not been since my grandmother gave him the tea that danced in the pot.

He and I spent our time together even when there was very little to do in a day. Most of our time was spent in pure silence even while working side by side.

Though it had seemed like time spread past two weeks it had not and the boys family had arrived.

We woke to the sounds of my mothers screams, something I had never heard from her before. I tried to catch her attention but there was nothing. It was the first time I had felt hopelessness. As the man to be of the family I felt I had brought shame upon my family for not having the power to help whatever had caused my mother such pain.

I stood frozen looking at her for some time before looking around and realizI got both the boy and I were lying on the ground yet standing side by side.

My grandmother had warned my mother as she did all to not come back until two weeks time when the ill boy was left in her care. Grandmother demanded mother to sit and calm herself before others come and to trust that all would be well in time.

Mother cried herself to sleep in the arms of grandmother who did her best to stay strong for her daughter.

When I looked around I could see the boy in the corner of the room, his knees to his chest. I could hear him speaking but his mouth did not move. Then I saw grandmother. This time I could tell there was something different about us all. Grandmother stood straight with hair not so white. She too spoke without moving her lips.

She grabbed our hands and brought us to the fire, their we sat the boy and I listening to grandmother tell us our fait and what we must do as the first born sons. Grandmother handed us a piece of glass, this glass unlike the glass we used to store fathers plum win in was black. It showed my truth as grandmother called it.

I began to feel and hear things I had not before. My body began to hurt in places I had not felt before, the voices were strange and the words that followed painful to listen to. It stopped just as quickly as it had all began. Grandmother took the strange glass from us and gave us both tea. She then took our cups from us after our first sip.

She gave my cup to him and his to me.

We drank our tea in silence and looked at each other with smiling faces. The boy finished his tea and fell fast asleep as did I. When we woke grand mother was grey and walked with a curve in her back as she had before. The boy and I sat at the table and eat while grandmother walked in with his family.

They embraced me and kissed me with such warmth, then thanked my grandmother and Off we went. The boy stayed along side my grandmother, we looked at each other and smiled.

I was told to wait til my time had come before sharing this story of our life. Grandmother made us promise that we would not speak of this to a soul nor mention it aloud to her unti then.

The boy was born to a family of means birthed by a mother whom was ill during her pregnancy. Her pains and sickness had birthed a child not strong enough to carry their family name. They were the son and daughter in law of a wealthy family that had made generational wealth in finance.

I was born into a family of love and of the earth by a mother who gave herself good health a prosperity while with child. Raised by a father who taught me the pride of caring for the lives he’s promsed to care for and feed.

Grandmother switched our tamashi so that not only the boy would survive but so that I could keep my family alive as well.

This blessing granted by the magic of grandmother allowed me the best education only money could provide and obtain employment in world class financial institunions only my new family could offer.

That is not the only secret I bare, I hold true to my soul the fact that the world is changing. And money will forever be the festering illness of us all.

I began developing a source of currency new to all in this time. A currency that wont be like anything else. Blockchain is the process and structure of functionality, Cryptocurrency is the name of its shared existence.

Once I had developed the system I gathered as much currency that would fit on a secured device and vanished. Enough currency that my family would never have to want ever again for generations to come.

The boy has grown into a happy and healthy man whom has taken care of not only the farm but our family with such strength and grace.

Our lives are the proof of work that there is magic in all things. Our names and location of the family’s origin is where it all began, and make up the mysterious nature of the developer’s name.

In its essence I am not the only one who conjured up Crypto Currency. The spell binding moment we shared is the SHA pattern in the work required to mine cryptocurrency ....like the laborious work to maintain the farm. Its real regardless of how you look at it. If it were not then why are so many scrambling to unvail its truth or obtain its wealth.