A lot can happen in a few years. Not only had Eric become a resident of his first residential development, but he'd also acquired two more developments, each nestled in the surrounding community with a unique theme that paid homage to it.

Heather's father gave his blessing, and they were married shortly after their new home was completed. Max had offered his blessing as well. Then when Eric confided that he wanted to focus solely on residential development, although Max was better known as a commercial and industrial developer, Max assured Eric that he would always be available to offer assistance and advice, but reminded Eric that he was ready to take the next step in his career.

Eric didn't forget his roots. He still loved building things with his own hands and taking pride in quality craftsmanship. It was the hallmark of the reputation he'd built in the community and the reason he was fully involved in each step of dismantling Carl's cabin so it could be moved to its new home, atop his grandather's.

While Eric was a professional builder, the outside walls of log cabins provided him with new challenges, as well as a unique education. Each log had to be removed in a strategic order and numbered so that when it was reconstructed, the grooves would fit perfectly. The fact that it was Carl's cabin made the process even more delicate. Eric wanted to salvage every log that he could, for they had housed the ideas and visions of some very great minds. More than once, Eric pondered what he would hear if those walls could talk.

The process of dismantling Carl's cabin went slower than it should have because Eric wanted to make sure he didn't overlook the last token. He and Heather had gone through the place over and over, searching high and low for the round wooden coin, but it was nowhere to be found. Although Carl had assured him it was there and would present itself, that didn't alleviate his frustration when their searches left them empty handed.

Finally, the last log was removed, and they were down to the foundation. The only other thing remaining was the back porch, which Eric had determined was an addition to the original structure, probably built to accommodate the mastermind groups as they smoked cigars and drank snifters of brandy in the evenings. Thinking of the historical significance of such meetings, Eric was originally reluctant to tear it down, but Carl was adamant that he wanted the property cleared before it was turned over to a real estate broker and put on the market.

Board by board, Eric dismantled the porch by himself. The stack of boards grew quickly, and before long, Eric was down to the wooden floor planks and the steps leading to the flagstone walk that, in turn, led to Carl's favored fishing spot. Slinging his sledge hammer at the top step, he spied a metal box underneath and knew he had his eye on the prize. Scrambling down, he crawled to the side and found an opening large enough to pull it out.

For a few minutes, he simply held it, relishing the anticipation. Then he carefully lifted the lid, listening to its hinges creak after years of being closed and tucked away. Peering inside, he discovered that he had his hands on a treasure, and he quietly carried it to the riverbank, where he sat in Carl's old chair to inspect its contents.

* * *

One year later, Eric cut the ribbon on his own commercial building, the last one he would build. The top floor housed his development company, and Heather's interior design showroom and office were on the floor below. His construction business also had its own dedicated office now, complete with a full staff, including an administrative assistant and bookkeeper. The remaining offices hadn't been difficult to fill. Eric had been able to rent space to an engineer and surveyor, an architectural firm, and a real estate broker.

His career had been a labor of love, but it hadn't come without struggles and challenges. It had required sweat equity and sacrifice, as well as a willingness to learn that had, at times, made his head spin. It had taken hard work, and it didn't happen overnight. But every lesson and experience had brought him closer to success.

He looked out at the group who had come for today's ribbon‐cutting ceremony. In the front row stood Max, who had told Eric he wouldn't miss it for the world. True to his word, he had provided much needed guidance in the design and construction of the five‐story building, and his experience had saved Eric from making mistakes more than a few times. Next to Max stood Eric's parents, both beaming with pride at their son's achievements. With a nod, Eric acknowledged the local government officials he'd worked with over the years, and he was touched to see the two veterans who had become his friends after they'd brought the historic battleground to his attention.

The only person missing was his dear friend and mentor, Carl. They had kept in touch via phone calls and emails until Eric received a letter from his wife saying that Carl had passed away peacefully in his sleep. She thanked Eric for giving Carl an opportunity to continue doing what he had so very much loved—using his knowledge and experience to help others succeed and grow. To Carl and his family, his legacy was not of his many accomplishments, but in the wisdom and encouragement he passed on, for that would live forever.

I remember, and I promise I won't forget, Eric thought before reaching for Heather's hand. Together, they picked up the oversized scissors and cut the ribbon, officially opening the doors of the Schultz Building, the new home to their future careers.

After a celebratory lunch and more than a few photographs, the crowd dwindled down. Max patted him on the back and told him how proud he was of him, laughing that he knew him back when….

His parents were busy playing with their granddaughter, Eric's pride and joy. Meredith had been born just 13 months before, and while she was a handful, she was also the apple of her grandparents' hearts. Watching them, Eric realized just how he blessed he was and reached for Heather's hand.

“We should celebrate,” he said. “Do you want to go out and have a quiet dinner alone tonight?”

“I have a better idea. How about we make it a weekend? I know a quiet little cabin along the river that would be a perfect getaway. And I don't think we'll have to look very far to find someone who will watch the baby for a couple days,” she said, nodding at his parents who were doting on their daughter's every move.

“It's a date,” Eric said. “I couldn't think of anything I'd like better.

* * *

Driving up to the cabin, Eric felt a familiar pang as he passed Carl's land. It looked naked without the cabin or any trace of his old friend. That pang turned to gladness as he pulled their SUV into the lane that led to his grandfather's old place. But it didn't look old anymore. The second story loft had been designed to complement the existing structure, and the two blended together as if they were meant for each other. A few steps led to a small porch and the front door, but it was the back of the house that attracted Eric—the addition of a screened‐in porch, with a wooden staircase that led to a flagstone walk that took them to the riverbank. It was the perfect place to relax and clear one's mind, and they had spent many weekends there.

Heather laid a blanket on the ground under a weeping willow tree, and they sat quietly, listening to the sounds of nature.

“You know, progress has its benefits,” Eric remarked, “but nothing compares to enjoying the basics. It reminds me of simpler times, like when I was a boy and watched my grandfather sit out here.”

“He'd be happy to know that you're carrying on the tradition. Eric, he would be so proud of you and what you've done with his cabin. It truly is remarkable—you've even made a country girl out of me!” she laughed.

“I hope Carl would be proud, as well. You know, he was quite remarkable, too, taking a young guy like me under his wing and giving so much of his time and knowledge, without asking for anything in return. I was nothing more than a broke builder who had nothing to offer him in return.”

“Oh, yes, you did. You gave him the one thing he had been looking for—you were eager to learn. Remember what his wife said, that Carl's legacy wasn't in his accomplishments or properties or even his bank accounts, but in the legacy he left behind? Eric, your success is his legacy. You gave Carl the opportunity to continue doing what he loved the most—helping others succeed.”

“No, Heather, I don't think so. I don't think I'm Carl's final legacy,” Eric mused.

“Well, if it's not you, then what is it?”

“It's something that will last long after me. And he left it to me—a box of wooden tokens and a box full of handwritten documents, plans, letters, and ideas that were tucked away under his back porch. That's his legacy. And it was his wish that I would hold onto it and someday pass it on to our children and other aspiring entrepreneurs who could benefit from the experience of him and his mastermind group.”

“He left you a box of documents and letters? You never told me that,” Heather replied.

“I was waiting for the right moment—the moment when I thought I deserved to be the one to be heir to his treasure. Heather, Carl could have left me millions of dollars, but it still wouldn't have come close to the value of what was in that box. There was even a letter penned by my grandfather on the day he contributed his token to the collection.”

“Really? What did it say? What was the token? Come on, inquiring minds want to know.”

“Well, first you have to know my grandfather. He wasn't a jovial type, though he was always pleasant to be around. The time we spent together was often quiet, sitting out here on the riverbank with our fishing lines bobbing in the water. I loved every minute, but not because it was fun. I guess it was more because my grandfather treated me as an equal. He didn't tell me what to do or try to make small talk with a young boy. Instead, he shared important things with me, sharing tidbits of his innermost thoughts and wisdom as they popped into his head, just like I was an adult. I felt so important when I was with him. I guess that's why the wooden token that my grandpa left behind means so much to me,” he said.

“What was it, Eric?”

“Mentorship. You see, every wooden token was contributed by a different member of Carl's mastermind group throughout the years. And every member who contributed one wrote a letter about the principle and why it was important to them. Do you know what my grandfather's letter said?”

“No, tell me,” Heather softly replied.

“He said that it was his wish to live long enough to have an impact on my success. In the event he did not, he hoped that the mentorship that the group had shared with each other would be passed on by each member to others who followed in their footsteps. He expressed his belief that knowledge held absolutely no value if it was held captive by a single individual, but he also stated that any knowledge once shared would multiply and become more valuable over time.”

“Wow. Do you think Carl specifically chose you when it came time to share the tokens and the knowledge of his mastermind group?” Heather asked.

“I don't know. I'd like to think so. As Carl once said, when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”

“What a story you have to tell our kids one day, Eric. It's really quite amazing how it all came to be,” she pointed out.

“The story isn't done yet, Heather. For there is one token that I have yet to implement in his my life and career. I owe it to Carl. I owe it to my grandfather. I owe to the legacy I'll leave my children.”

* * *

The spring sun had thawed us out of winter hibernation, and the robins had returned from their southern winter home. The bright green of new grass and leaves colored the surroundings as Eric drove to the cabin. Spring was always a time for new beginnings and growth, and it was his favorite time of the year.

As he drove passed Carl's land one more time, he was surprised to find a vehicle in the drive and what looked to be the beginning stages of construction. On a whim, he pulled into the lane and got out of his truck.

“Hi, I'm Eric Schultz. I own the cabin just down the road. Are you going to be my neighbor?”

“It looks like it. I bought this land last fall and I am going to try my hand at building a summer home here. By the way, I'm Sean,” he said, extending his hand.

“It's good to meet you, Sean. It will be good to have someone living here again. And hey, if you need a hand building your summer home, I'll be happy to help. Actually, I started out just like you, energetic and eager to build something with my own two hands,” he said, handing the young man his business card.

“You did?”

“I sure did, but wasn't easy. I needed a lot of help and advice, and thankfully, the people I needed were there when I needed them.”

“But your card says you're a developer. I can't afford to pay for your help. I appreciate the offer, though,” Sean replied.

“No pay necessary. Sometimes you can't put a value on knowledge, Sean. It's something that has no value unless it's given away. I tell you what—why don't you come on over to my cabin. We can sit on the back porch and have a glass of iced tea while you tell me about your plans for this land,” Eric offered.

“That'd be great! You don't have to do that, but I sure would appreciate it!”

“Think nothing of it, Sean. Consider it a token of my appreciation for everything that's been given to me. Oh, and don't let me forget to tell you about somebody who was very important to me. His name was Carl.”