The story tells of a little boy who would look across the sprawling meadows outside his house every morning, and see in the distance a house with golden windows. He would stare and revel in the radiant beams streaming his way from far off. He asked his father one day if they could visit the house with the golden windows. The father obliged, and they started to walk. They walked until they approached the house. The young lad stood perplexed.
He saw no windows of gold… But a little girl inside, saw them staring at her home and came out to ask if they were looking for something. “Yes,” replied the boy, “I wanted to see the house with the golden windows that I see every morning.” “Oh, you’ve come to the wrong place,” she quickly said. “If you wait here a little while until sunset, I will show you the house with the golden windows that I see every evening.” She then pointed to a house in the distance… the home of the little boy.
So we go through life, looking out of the windows of our own experience, dreaming of a golden window in the distance, but when we look through the windows of the soul, we realize that those distant golden windows do not exist. We see gold, only because of the way the light catches our earthly dwellings at different times of our experience, at different times in our lives.