As for courage and will - we cannot measure how much of each lies

In the timeless words of Andre Norton, the great weaver of worlds and chronicler of courage, we are given a truth both humbling and profound: “As for courage and will—we cannot measure how much of each lies within us; we can only trust there will be sufficient to carry through trials which may lie ahead.” These words, though gentle in tone, speak with the strength of steel. They remind us that the essence of courage is not certainty, but faith—faith that, when the storm arrives and the path grows dark, something deep within us will rise to meet it.

The ancients often taught that man does not discover his strength until he is tested. The seed does not know its power until it breaks the soil; the sailor does not know his heart until the waves rise against him. So it is with courage—it slumbers within, invisible, immeasurable, until the hour of trial awakens it. Andre Norton, in her wisdom, does not promise that the strong will always endure, but that every soul carries within it enough—just enough—to endure the burdens appointed to its journey. That is the sacred trust she speaks of: not the arrogance of knowing, but the quiet faith of continuing.

Consider the story of Ernest Shackleton, the explorer who led his men into the frozen heart of Antarctica. When his ship, the Endurance, was crushed by ice, death surrounded them in a white silence. Shackleton could not have known beforehand how much will he possessed, nor how much courage his men could summon. Yet, day after day, through hunger and frost, he led them onward. He believed—not in the certainty of survival, but in the sufficiency of spirit. And that belief became strength. Against all odds, every man returned alive. Thus was proven Norton’s truth: that what lies within us cannot be measured until it is called forth by trial.

There is a quiet kind of heroism that does not roar in battle, but whispers in despair: “Go on.” It is found in those who rise after loss, who keep faith when all seems broken. It is the will that carries the wounded through grief, the mother through hardship, the exile through lonely lands. No scale can weigh such courage, no mirror can reflect it; it reveals itself only when life demands it. The wise do not seek to measure their strength before the test—they walk forward, trusting that the measure will be given when the hour strikes.

Courage and will are not possessions, but living forces, drawn from the soul’s deep well. They are renewed in each act of endurance, each breath taken despite fear. The ancients said that even the gods honor those who persevere in silence, for that is the highest act of faith—to stand unknowing, unassured, and yet unyielding. The warrior who walks into darkness with only trust as his shield carries within him a light that cannot be extinguished.

So learn this, children of tomorrow: do not despair when you feel your strength is small, for it has not yet been revealed. You cannot measure the depth of your courage before the storm, nor the reach of your will before the climb. What matters is the trust—the belief that when the time comes, you will find what is needed within you. Even if it trembles, even if it falters, it will be enough. For courage is not the absence of fear; it is the quiet voice that says, “I will go on.”

Let this be your guide in the days of trial: do not waste your spirit in doubt. Prepare your heart, not by counting your strength, but by believing in its hidden abundance. When darkness falls, take one step forward. When fear rises, breathe and take another. That is how courage is proven—not in knowing, but in trusting. For the measure of your soul is not in its calm, but in its endurance.

And remember always the wisdom of Andre Norton: Courage is not a number to be known, nor will a resource to be weighed. They are gifts that awaken in the moment of need. Trust them, and they will not fail you. Trust yourself, and you will find that what lies within you has always been sufficient—for you were never meant to live without strength, only to learn when and how to call it forth.