The Rotten Bridge
A rotten bridge about to fall is kept whole because each dusk an old man carries lone travelers across; villagers learn he is the bridge-builder's soul, who in life spent all he had to save them from drowning and in death still keeps watch. A stone bridge replaces it and his shadow is seen no more.
Over the stream stood a rotten wooden bridge, aged and about to fall, a worry to travelers. Each dusk an old man would carry people across on his back, and the bridge thus held and few drowned.
The villagers wondered and watched in secret; they saw an old man past ninety, bent, waiting by the bridge each night, and whenever he saw a lone traveler he carried him over. Asked his name, he would not answer.
An old man recognized him and said: this bridge was built by the old man in his life; he died decades ago. In life he feared people drowning in the stream and spent all he had to build the bridge; in death his soul did not rest but still kept it.
The villagers, moved by his virtue, replaced it with a stone bridge and set his statue by the side. From then night crossers were safe, and the old man's shadow was seen no more.
The Chronicler of the Strange says: The old man spent all he had to build the bridge, a kindness for a time; his soul kept the rotten bridge, a kindness for a hundred generations. In life he helped men, in death he did not cease — was this mere human effort? It was a kindly heart that would not rest. You who hold office over the people, which of you can be like him, whose shade the people still lean on after he is gone? Bridge-stone may rot, but the heart that keeps the bridge cannot; look on this bridge, and the world may be mended.