stories and alike
Enjoy!
A Good Life
I live
you live
we live a good life
(Apache Song)
A mere Candle
To seek freedom is the only driving force I know. Freedom to fly off into that infinity out there. Freedom to dissolve; to lift off; to be like the flame of a candle, which, in spite of being up against the light of a billion stars, remains intact, because it never pretended to be more than what it is: a mere candle.
Don Juan Matus as quoted by Carlos Castaneda
Comparison
When Bayazid was walking the streets he heard someone reciting: “Allahu Akbar”. So he asked the man:
“Do you know, what you are saying?”
“Of course I do” replied the men “God is the Greatest!”
“As there is nothing that can be compared with God, how can it be He is the Greatest?”
didn't we?
An elephant walking through the jungle came to a ravine that was spanned by a rather flimsy rope bridge. He looked at it and decided it was probably just stong enough to bear his weight. As he took his first step onto it a flea jumped into his ear. Gingerly the elephant made his way across. Once at the other side, the flea jumped out and boasted...
"We sure shook that bridge, didn't we!"
Directions to our Fathers House
Make a Right onto Believeth Blvd.
Keep straight and go through the Green Light, which is Jesus Christ.
There, you must turn onto the Bridge of Faith, which is over troubled water.
When you get off the bridge, make a Right turn and Keep Straight.
You are on the King's Highway - Heaven-bound.
Keep going for three miles: One for the Father, One for the Son, and
One for the Holy Ghost.
Then exit off onto Grace Blvd.
From there, make a Right turn on Gospel Lane.
Keep Straight and then make another Right on Prayer Road.
As you go on your way, Yield Not to the traffic on Temptation Ave.
Also, avoid SIN STREET because it is a DEAD END.
Pass up Envy Drive, and Hate Avenue.
Also, pass Hypocrisy Street, Gossiping Lane, and Backbiting Blvd.
However, you have to go down Long-suffering Lane, Persecution Blvd.
And Trials and Tribulations Ave.
But that's all right, because VICTORY Street is straight ahead!
AMEN!
Life is God's gift to you.
The way you live it............is your gift to God.
Received from a friend 
Thanks very much jb.
Facing The Truth
A Sufi saint, a truly Great Wali, once was asked to lecture on ‘truth’. So he asked "How many students are there?" One of them answered: "Some 600 murids ." The Master ordered: "Choose the 100 best!" The disciple did as ordered and when finished, the saint added: "Now choose the 20 best of these!" And he ordered again to select the four most advanced of these 20. "If I were to reveal to you " he said addressing both the four and the rest "the Hidden Secrets of the Truth, these four murids would be the first to accuse me of blasphemy and apostasy."
Fisherman Story
One day a fisherman was lying on a beautiful beach, with his fishing pole propped up in the sand and his solitary line cast out into the sparkling blue surf. He was enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun and the prospect of catching a fish.
About that time, a businessman came walking down the beach, trying to relieve some of the stress of his workday. He noticed the fisherman sitting on the beach and decided to find out why this fisherman was fishing instead of working harder to make a living for himself and his family. “You aren’t going to catch many fish that way,” said the businessman to the fisherman, “you should be working rather than lying on the beach!” The fisherman looked up at the businessman, smiled and replied, “And what will my reward be?”
“Well, you can get bigger nets and catch more fish!” was the businessman’s answer.” And then what will my reward be?” asked the fisherman, still smiling. The businessman replied, “You will make money and you’ll be able to buy a boat, which will then result in larger catches of fish!” “And then what will my reward be?” asked the fisherman again.
The businessman was beginning to get a little irritated with the fisherman’s questions. “You can buy a bigger boat, and hire some people to work for you!” he said. “And then what will my reward be?” repeated the fisherman.
The businessman was getting angry. “Don’t you understand? You can build up a fleet of fishing boats, sail all over the world, and let all your employees catch fish for you!” Once again the fisherman asked, “And then what will my reward be?”
The businessman was red with rage and shouted at the fisherman, “Don’t you understand that you can become so rich that you will never have to work for your living again! You can spend all the rest of your days sitting on this beach, looking at the sunset. You won’t have a care in the world!”
The fisherman, still smiling, looked up and said, “And what do you think I’m doing right now?
(This is an almost verbatim variant of a short story by German writer and Nobel Prize Winner Heinrich Böll ‘Anekdote zur Senkung der Arbeitsmoral’ - Anekdote for lowering the Working Morale)
Footprints in the Sand
One night a man had a dream. He dreamt he was walking with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes of his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand; one belonged to him, and the other to the Lord. When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it had happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This really bothered the man and he questioned the Lord about it. "Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you, you’d walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why, when I needed you most, you would leave me." The Lord replied, "My precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."
possible authors
Mary Stevenson
Margaret Fishback Powers
He knows the answer
The Rabbi's students asked him: "Rebbe, please, help us. The Talmud teaches us to thank God both and equally for the bad days as for the good. How can that be done?"
The Rabbi thought for a moment and then answered: "Go and see Rabbi Zusya. He knows the answer…"
So they went to see Rabbi Zusya and found him in the poorest quarter of the town. When they entered his scrubby home, they found him sitting at an empty table, near a tiny window, studying. He greeted them warmly, offered bred and water, but his guest refused and replied:
"Thank you very much. But we're here just to ask you one question. Our Rabbi sent us and so we ask: How come we are to thank God equally for the bad days and the good?"
Rabbi Zusya smiled: "The Rabbi sent you to me? But why me? Listen: there's never been a single bad day in all my life. Each and every day has been a miracle!"
How To Reach The One
One day, a man asked his spirtual guide:
“How do I reach God?”
“There are as many Paths to the One as there are creatures. But by far the shortest and simplest Path is to serve, not to hurt and make others happy!”
I forgot
Three youths hid themselves on a Sabbath in a barn in order to smoke. Hasidim discovered them and wished to flog the offenders.
One youth exclaimed: "I deserve no punishment, for I forgot that today is the Sabbath."
The second youth said: "And I forgot that smoking on the Sabbath is forbidden."
The third youth raised his voice and cried out: "I, too, forgot."
"What did you forget?" he was asked.
The lad replied: "I forgot to lock the door of the barn."
I?
Once Jesus asked his God: "I need to know the answer to a question!"
God replied: "Go and ask the devil."
So Jesus went and asked the devil: "I need to know the answer to a question!"
The devil stooped him and said immediately, " Speak less about ' I' or you will end up like ME "
If Sharks were Men
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"If sharks were men," Mr. Keuner was asked by his landlady's little girl, "would they be nicer to the little fishes?" "Certainly," he said. "If sharks were men, they would build enormous boxes in the ocean for the little fish, with all kinds of food inside, both vegetable and animal. They would take care that the boxes always had fresh water, and in general they would make all kinds of sanitary arrangements. If, for example, a little fish were to injure a fin, it would immediately be bandaged, so that it would not die and be lost to the sharks before its time. So that the little fish would not become melancholy, there would be big water festivals from time to time; because cheerful fish taste better than melancholy ones. "There would, of course, also be schools in the big boxes. In these schools the little fish would learn how to swim into the sharks' jaws. They would need to know geography, for example, so that they could find the big sharks, who lie idly around somewhere. The principal subject would, of course, be the moral education of the little fish. They would be taught that it would be the best and most beautiful thing in the world if a little fish sacrificed itself cheerfully and that they all had to believe the sharks, especially when the latter said they were providing for a beautiful future. The little fish would be taught that this future is assured only if they learned obedience. The little fish had to beware of all base, materialist, egotistical and Marxist inclinations, and if one of their number betrayed such inclinations they had to report it to the sharks immediately. "If sharks were men, they would, of course, also wage wars against one another, in order to conquer other fish boxes and other little fish. The wars would be waged by their own little fish. They would teach their little fish that there was an enormous difference between themselves and the little fish belonging to the other sharks. Little fish, they would announce, |
are well known to be mute, but they are silent in quite different languages and hence find it impossible to understand one another. Each little fish that, in a war, killed a couple of other little fish, enemy ones, silent in their own language, would have a little order made of seaweed pinned to it and be awarded the title of hero. "If sharks were men, there would, of course, also be art. There would be beautiful pictures, in which the sharks' teeth would be portrayed in magnificent colors and their jaws as pure pleasure gardens, in which one could romp about splendidly. The theaters at the bottom of the sea would show heroic little fish swimming enthusiastically into the jaws of sharks, and the music would be so beautiful that to the accompaniment of its sounds, the orchestra leading the way, the little fish would stream dreamily into the sharks' jaws, lulled by the most agreeable thoughts. "There would also be a religion, if sharks were men. It would preach that little fish only really begin to live properly in the sharks' stomachs. "Furthermore, if sharks were men there would be an end to all little fish being equal, as is the case now. Some would be given important offices and be placed above the others. Those who were a little bigger would even be allowed to eat up the smaller ones. That would be altogether agreeable for the sharks, since they themselves would more often get bigger bites to eat. And the bigger little fish, occupying their posts, would ensure order among the little fish, become teachers, officers, engineers in box construction, etc. "In short, if sharks were men, they would for the first time bring culture to the ocean." |
LaIlLaLaLiLa
Once upon a time three members of the local spiritual nobility looked back on their life and how gently it had treated them. Family, wealth, and yes, satisfaction with their achievements on the Path. After ending their prayers they reminisced and suddenly one of them said:
"Brethren, please, do you not remember the young man, that left our town 40 years ago to live a hermit’s life on the island?"
They nodded and so he continued: "Please, consider, the poor man has been living and practising all on his own, never leaving the island! Shall we not pay a long due visit and share the spiritual knowledge that our master so kindly bestowed upon us?" And so it was agreed.
The very next day they got into a rowing boat making their way all over to the island. With sadness and embarrassment they heard on old and feeble voice reciting: "LaIlLaLaLiLa" thus revealing the utmost importance of their arriving here. When they hit the shore, they rushed to find the hermit by simply following the sound of his mispronounced efforts. They approached him with respect and politeness, diplomatically explaining their cause and were happy and relieved when the old hermit proved to be very, very grateful and most willingly welcomed the correction.
After a few hours of mutual prayer and practice they were sure to be able to leave the hermit until next month when they planned to return. They left the island, still listening to the hermit’s chanting that gradually slipped back to it’s old peccable form "LaIlLaLaLiLa" and then a sudden silence.
Deeply afflicted by the failure of their journey they continued rowing when one of them suddenly was tapped on the shoulder. The Old Hermit stood right next to the boat on the water and said:
"Listen, I’m really sorry, but…What were those words again?"
Love the Nation
| Love the Nation, but hate the Nationalists |
Vaterlandsliebe, der Haß gegen Vaterländer |
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“Herr K. didn‘t deem it necessary to live in a specific country. He said: “I can go hungry everywhere.” Yet one day he walked through a town that was occupied by the enemy of the country he was living in. An officer of the enemy got in his way and forced him to leave the pavement. Herr K. did as ordered, and perceived how he grew outraged not only toward that man, but also toward the man’s country; he wished it to be wiped out from the earth’s surface. "How," was Herr K.’s question "did I become a nationalist for this minute? Because I met a nationalist. That is why this stupidity must be eradicated, because those who get in touch with it also turn stupid.” |
„Herr K. hielt es nicht für nötig, in einem bestimmten Land zu leben. Er sagte: „Ich kann überall hungern.“ Eines Tages aber ging er durch eine Stadt, die vom Feind des Landes besetzt war, in dem er lebte. Da kam ihm entgegen ein Offizier dieses Feindes und zwang ihn, vom Bürgersteig herunter zu gehen. Herr K. ging herunter und nahm an sich wahr, daß er gegen diesen Mann empört war; und zwar nicht nur gegen diesen Mann, sondern besonders gegen das Land, dem der Mann angehörte; also daß er wünschte, es möchte vom Erdboden vertilgt werden. „Wodurch“, fragte Herr K., „bin ich für diese Minute ein Nationalist geworden? Dadurch, daß ich einem Nationalisten begegnete. Aber darum muß man die Dummheit ja ausrotten; weil sie dumm macht, die ihr begegnen.“ |
| Bertolt Brecht | |
Moses and the Shepherd Boy
Once Moses was walking near the bank of a river. And he saw a shepherd boy speaking to himself. Moses was interested and halted there to listen to what he was saying. The shepherd boy was saying
‘O God, I have heard so much of You. You are so beautiful. You are so lovely. You are so kind that if You ever came to me, I would clothe You with my mantle, and I would guard You night and day. I would protect you from the cruel animals of the forest. and bathe You in this river, and bring You all good things, milk and buttermilk. I would bring You a special bread. I love You so much. I would never let anyone cast his glance upon You. I would be all the time near you. If only I could see you once, God, I would give all I have.’
Moses said, ‘What are you saying!’
The boy looked at Moses and trembled and was afraid.
‘Did I say anything wrong?’ he asked.
Moses said: ‘God is the Protector of all beings, you think of protecting Him, of giving Him bread? He gives bread to the whole universe. You say you would bathe Him in the river. He is the purest of all pure things. And how can you say you will guard Him against all beings?’
And the boy trembled. He thought, what a terrible thing I have done! He seemed to be lost. But as Moses went a few steps further, there came a voice.
‘Moses, what did you do! We sent you to bring our friends to Us, and now you have separated one. No matter how he thought of Us, he thought of Us just the same. You should have let him think the way he was thinking about Us. You should not have interfered with him!’ Evenyone has his own imagination of God. It is best if everyone is left to his own imagination.
found here
and Thanks a Lot to Irving Karchmar for the hint!
Once!
Once upon a time a Catholic priest and a rabbi meet on a train. By accident they share the same compartment and after stowing their luggage they take their seats next to the window and start reading. The presence of an official of another religion slowly reaches their awareness and so both decide to yield to the favour of the occasion and after properly introducing themselves start a vivid conversation on G-d, the Universe and the rest. After a while they feel intimate enough to ask more personal questions and so the priest goes:
“Now, brother, tell me: what is not allowed in your religion?”
“Pork.” The rabbi replies and wants to know ‘And in yours, my dear companion?”
“O ye know already - women.”
The journey is continued in silence for two minutes and then the priest goes again:
“Brother, just amongst the two of us: have you ever…?”
The rabbi looks to the right, to the left, and as he’s sure no one cane overhear their conversation says:
“Yeah. Once!”
Silence. But the rabbi now feels entitled to the same question and asks:
“And you, friend, have you ever…?”
The priest grows a little nervous and concerned now and although they’re still alone in their compartment looks to the right and left to make sure and answers very softly:
“Yes. Once!”
Says our rabbi: “It’s nicer than pork, isn’t it?”
Our Greatest Fear
It is our light not our darkness
that most frightens us.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light not our darkness
that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, Our presence automatically liberates others.
quoted by Nelson Mandela
perception
| Observing Human Beings | |
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Dog says: "They must be Gods! They are feeding and fondling me." |
Cat says: "I must be a God. They are feeding and fondling me." |
| What exactly did you observe today? | |
Politeness - 2
There are those two guys who are joining a meal in a fine restaurant. And as it happens the order the same: two steaks. And again – as it happens – those two steaks are served on one plate and – as it happens – one is twice the size of the other.
After a while of complementing each other to chose the steak as politeness requires, one smiles and reaches out for the huge steak and eats it with great pleasure. His companion immediately gains a dismal air which he succeeds in communicating to his friend.
When they’re both finished, Mr. Huge Steak asks Mr. Tiny Steak:
“Is anything the matter?”
“No, no, no…” (awkward smile)
“C’mon, if feel, there’s some disharmony”
“Well…”
“Courage, friend!”
“Well, it’s the steak, ye know. You’ve chosen the big steak!”
“O” says Mr. Huge Steak “which one would you have chosen?”
“The small one of course!”
“O” says again Mr. Huge Steak “but why are you sulking? That is the steak you got!”
Religious Tolerance
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A man is driving home one night from working late at the office. As he crosses a bridge out of the city, approaching the middle of the bridge, he sees a man standing on the edge, outside the safety barrier. Smith is a religious man and a firm believer in doing right. He wonders if he can help; and he knows that he should try to save this man in distress. So he stops his car, and walks back to the fellow, who looks as if he is about to make the leap. "Hello, my friend", says Smith as he gets to around three metres away from the jumper and stops. "You must be in terrible distress. Perhaps I can help you?" he says warmly. "Keep back!" shouts the man. "You can't help me! It's too bad! It's too late!" "My friend, I see you are in pain. But sometimes another can help. Tell me, are you a believer? In times like these, our chosen faith can often show us the way and provide comfort. Do you follow any faith my friend?" "I can't tell you, I'm ashamed to be here", sobbed the man. "Well", Smith replied, "The Koran tells us that we should not take our own lives, and we should place our trust in Allah. Are you a Muslim my friend?" And as he speaks, he edges a little closer.
"No, that isn't my religion", the man sobs. "Ah, the Torah tells us we should not take our own lives, and we should put our trust in others and the will of the Almighty. Are you of the Jewish faith my friend?" "No, no, that isn't my church!" is the sad reply. "Hmm, the Bible tells us we should not take our own lives, and we should trust in God and pray for guidance", Smith tried. "Yes, I'm a Christian", the man sobbed. "Well, that is great news!" Smith exclaimed from the heart. "So am I. Perhaps we can pray together, to ask for guidance in these hard times. Will you pray with me, my friend?" "It won't do any good but if you insist!" the fellow cried back. "It's too late, it's much too late!" |
"Well, my friend, I understand your pain, but God can heal all. Let us pray together." So Smith recited a short prayer and toward the end, the other joined in and they prayed together. "Well, my friend, I feel better, how about you?" joked Smith. "Tell me, what denomination do you belong to?" he enquired, and moved in a little. "I'm a Protestant" said the man with difficulty, racked by sobs. "That is good, my friend, very good - so am I" said Smith. "And tell me - what branch of the Protestant faith do you belong to?" "I'm a Third-Day Salvationist actually" replied the man, who looked as if he was doing better. "Good Lord! That's amazing! So am I", replied Smith, a wide smile on his face. "Let us ask the Lord together for guidance today", and they both observed silence for a few seconds, heads bowed. Smith moved forward gently, a warm smile on his face as he recognised a brother who needed help. He was within arm's reach at last. The poor fellow had relaxed a little by now. "Now tell me, I am with the First Convention Church - what is your Church my friend? Is it yours by chance?" asked Smith. "No, no, I am with Pastor Jones of the First Day Tabernacle", the man replied. "You are - what?" said Smith. "With - who?" he stuttered, his countenance changing. His face changed suddenly into a mask of hate. He lunged forward, screaming "Die you heretic bastard!" and pushed the man off the bridge. Many thanks to a3.cp |
Renouncing The World
nce within a brane a young yogi finally succeeded in renouncing the world. He left his master to live the life of a hermit. After some short months of wandering he finally settled at a river where he found a cavern of appropriate size.
There he spend his day with a strict practice, a short walk provided him with all the fruits and berries he needed. His sole possession consisted of two loin-cloths one of which he wore while the other was washed and left to dry. The first few month passed in happiness and bliss. But then he noticed much to his discomfort that obviously during the night, a rat was gnawing off the drying cloth. So every once in a while he had to undertake a two hours walk to the next village where he easily found replacement for the damaged garment. And back he went.
Two years later he could not fail to realize that his hermitage was grossly disrupted by this occasional trip to the village and so he decided that the acquisition of a cat would be much to his advantage as the animal could take care of the nightly pests. This turned out to be very effective, alas as a matter of fact, the kitten performed too well, so more than one hungry day put the hermit in puzzlement. When there were not enough rats the kitten would not stop to miaow and the yogi had to go and get some milk. This did not occur too often but it made him wonder.
‘Why ‘ so he said to himself ‘why don’t I get myself a goat? If I had a goat I’d save the time I waste whilst getting the milk." And so he did. Now everything seemed well and favorably organized: he had his clothes, the cat, the goat. He spend his days with asanas, pranayamas and meditation, and yes, with milking the goat. Our yogi was not a practical man. He had not foreseen the necessity of milking the goat daily, leaving him with much more milk than he actually needed and less time than he wanted. So he wondered again.
"If - well just supposing - if I got myself a wife!? If I got married she could take care of the clothes, the cat, the goat and all…" and so he did and before long everything he once renounced came flying back to him.
Respect
When Caliph Umar had conquered Jerusalem, the local Bishop payed a visit and invited him to pray in his church. The Caliph declined, although his religion would have allowed him to do so.
When the Bishop inquired the reason for this rejection, the Caliph answered:
“I myself would love to pray in your church. Alas - I am afraid, my Muslim Brothers will claim your church simply because I prayed there once.”
Second Thoughts
A guy falls off a cliff and and grabs onto a thin branch half way down. He shouts up the cliff, "Help, Help, Anyone there?" Eventually the Spirit of the Living God Jehova answers him and says (in a big voice)
"I will save you and give you a wonderful life blessed with many good things but first you have to let go of the branch"
The guy thinks for several minutes, then replies
"Is there anyone else up there?"
The Angel of Death
“And now listen, those that have ears, to a tale of Solomon the King. Yes, Solomon, the mightiest and wisest ruler of the earth that ever was or shall be. Wealthy beyond measure was Solomon, and with such wisdom as only Allah may bestow.
“And lo, he commanded the wind, and both men and Jinn, birds and animals. All were servants unto him. Yet he lost favor in the sight of God, for neither wealth nor power nor wisdom brought him enlightenment.
“One day, while King Solomon was walking alone in the royal garden, he came upon Azrael, the Angel of Death, who was pacing back and forth with a most worried expression. Solomon knew well the face of the Deadly Servant, for with the sight given unto him he had seen Death often, hovering over battles, or in the tents of the ill and wounded. When Solomon asked what troubled him, the Angel sighed, saying that he had on his list of those destined for the next world two scribes of Solomon, the brothers Elihoreph and Alijah.
“Now Solomon was grieved at the thought of losing his scribes, for he had known them since childhood and loved them like brothers. So he ordered the Jinn to carry Elihoreph and Aljah to the fabled city of Luz, the only place on earth where Death has no power. Instantly the Jinn did as he commanded, but the two scribes died at the very moment they reached the gates of that city.
“The next day Azrael appeared before Solomon. The Angel of Death was greatly pleased and said, ‘I thank thee, O King, for speeding thy servants to the place appointed. The fate destined for them was to die at the gates of that far city, but I had no idea how they were to travel so great a distance.’
“Now the King wept exceedingly, torn between sorrow and wrath at the death of his friends and the inescapable doom of men. And Azrael wondered greatly at this. ‘Why do you weep, O Lord of the World?’
‘For the long friends of my youth who are with me no more,’ said the King. ‘Have you no pity for those whose life you end?’
‘Pity?’ exclaimed Azrael scornfully. ‘You weep for the loss of their companionship. Your true sorrow is for yourself, and your wrath is truly self-pity. Alas, it has darkened your wisdom. Death is the most sublime gift of God, distilling from this life of fleeting joys and many sorrows that single drop which is the soul. Of such wine, O King, is poured the Sea of Light. Praise Allah that I, who am to you the Angel of Death, am in truth the Angel of Mercy.’“
The Answer
Once a man asked Rabbi Joshua ben Karechah:
"Why did God choose to speak to Moses out of a thorn bush?"
The Rabbi replied:
"If he had chosen an olive tree or a bramble bush, you would have asked the same question. But I cannot leave you without an answer, so I will say that God chose a wretched little thorn bush in order to teach us that there is nowhere on Earth where He is not present."
The Beauty of the Night
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“May a man,” the Rabbi was asked “protect what rightfully belongs to him?” “Yes, of course he may. What is it that belongs to you?” “It is my inn,” the visitor said. “So if you approve of my business, will you bless me in protecting it?” “Hm. Why does it need protection?” “During the night, the local boys break into my cellar and carry away food and beverages.” “And how exactly do you intend to protect your property?” “Rabbi, “ the inn keeper said, “ what am I to do? I have shouted at them, but it didn’t help. They just ran away. I bought a dog, but they just gave it food – no use to keep it any longer. At the moment, I see no choice but to go and buy a gun! Please, Rabbi, bless my doing!” The Rabbi was in deep thought for a moment. “The theft is causing real problems, isn’t it? The lads are deliberate in stealing. So tell me: how will the gun protect your property?” “Well, I’ll blow a shot in the air and scare them away. If I catch one in the inn, I’ll hold him at gun point. These roughnecks only understand violence.” The Rabbi replied: “No, I cannot give you my blessing. Will not the thieves get guns and rifles too? This will be a plain invitation to violence.” The man grew angry. “Well then it must be. I’ll do it anyway. Even without your blessing. I must defend my property!” He turned his back and left. The Rabbi followed the man to his cart and horse and yelled:” Hang on! Wait!” So the man went back to the Rabbi who said: “I might change my mind. But I have to test you first. Are you willing?” |
“What do you mean by, ‘Test me’” the man wanted to know, and was very much surprised when the rabbi slapped him across the face. “Ow, what the heck… why did you hit me, Rabbi?” “Very well.” the Rabbi explained, smiling “I honestly apologize. But for the moment of one breath I was under the erroneous impression that you only understood the language of violence. I was mistaken. You did not hit me back. You know that force is not the appropriate means when words are called for. You would never endanger a child with a gun, so I will gladly give you my blessing.” The man was relieved. “Rabbi, thank you very much. And maybe I was wrong myself.” And the inn keeper left for home. The day’s evening turned into a dark night, clouds covered the sky, not a single star was visible, let alone moonlight. A perfect occasion for all the malevolent creatures of the night. And when our innkeeper perceived a noise, he peeped through a window, and a few yards away detected the shadow of a man with a big bag standing near the entrance of the inn’s cellar. He approached the culprit, yelling at him to get out, and was very much surprised to be looking into the face of the Rabbi. “What are you doing here?” “I am here to help you defend your property. I am your guard.” He opened the bag and showed it’s contents: bread, sausages, cheese and fruit. “When the youngsters come, we can perhaps persuade them in the same manner as they dealt with your dog.” In silent awe the innkeeper beheld the Rabbi’s countenance, who patted him on the shoulder. “In the meantime, why not enjoy the beauty of this marvellous night!” |
The Camel Dances
The Camel had her heart set on becoming a ballet dancer.
“To make every movement a thing of grace and beauty”, said the Camel. “That is my one and only desire.”
Again and again she practiced her pirouettes, her releves and her arabesques. She repeated the five basic positions a hundred times each day. She worked for long months under the hot desert sun. Her feet were blistered and her body ached, but not once did she think of stopping.
At last the Camel said, “Now I am a dancer.” She announced a recital and danced before an invited group of camel friends and critics. When her dance was over, she made a deep bow.
There was no applause.
“I must tell you frankly,” said a member of the audience, “as a critic and a spokesman for this group, that you are lumpy and humpy. You are baggy and bumpy. You are, like the rest of us, simply a camel. You are NOT and never will be a ballet dancer!”
Chuckling and laughing the audience moved away across the sand.
“How very wrong they are!” said the Camel. “I have worked hard. There can be no doubt that I am a splendid dancer. I will dance and dance just for myself.”
That is what she did. It gave her many years of pleasure.
by Arnol Lobel
found on Healing Story Alliance
The Eagle and the Prairie Chickens
There once was a young, Native American boy who found an eagle’s egg and put it into the nest of a prairie chicken. The eagle hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them.
All its life, the changeling eagle, thinking it was a prairie chicken, did what the other prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds and insects to eat. It clucked and cackled. It flew in a brief thrashing of wings and flurry of feathers no more than a few feet off the ground. After all, that’s how prairie chickens were supposed to fly.
Years passed. And the changeling eagle grew bigger and stronger. One day, it saw a magnificent bird soaring far above in the cloudless sky. Hanging with graceful majesty on the powerful wind currents, it soared with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings.
“What a beautiful bird!” said the changeling eagle to its neighbor. “What is it?”
“That’s an eagle – the chief of the birds,” the neighbor clucked. “But don’t give it a second thought. You could never be like him.”
So the changeling eagle never gave it another thought and died always thinking it was a prairie chicken.
found on Healingstory Alliance
The Emperor’s New Suit
by Hans Christian Andersen (1837) 
Many, many years ago lived an emperor, who thought so much of new clothes that he spent all his money in order to obtain them; his only ambition was to be always well dressed. He did not care for his soldiers, and the theatre did not amuse him; the only thing, in fact, he thought anything of was to drive out and show a new suit of clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day; and as one would say of a king “He is in his cabinet,” so one could say of him, “The emperor is in his dressing-room.”
The great city where he resided was very gay; every day many strangers from all parts of the globe arrived. One day two swindlers came to this city; they made people believe that they were weavers, and declared they could manufacture the finest cloth to be imagined. Their colours and patterns, they said, were not only exceptionally beautiful, but the clothes made of their material possessed the wonderful quality of being invisible to any man who was unfit for his office or unpardonably stupid. 
“That must be wonderful cloth,” thought the emperor. “If I were to be dressed in a suit made of this cloth I should be able to find out which men in my empire were unfit for their places, and I could distinguish the clever from the stupid. I must have this cloth woven for me without delay.” And he gave a large sum of money to the swindlers, in advance, that they should set to work without any loss of time. They set up two looms, and pretended to be very hard at work, but they did nothing whatever on the looms. They asked for the finest silk and the most precious gold-cloth; all they got they did away with, and worked at the empty looms till late at night.
“I should very much like to know how they are getting on with the cloth,” thought the emperor. But he felt rather uneasy when he remembered that he who was not fit for his office could not see it. Personally, he was of opinion that he had nothing to fear, yet he thought it advisable to send somebody else first to see how matters stood. Everybody in the town knew what a remarkable quality the stuff possessed, and all were anxious to see how bad or stupid their neighbours were.
“I shall send my honest old minister to the weavers,” thought the emperor. “He can judge best how the stuff looks, for he is intelligent, and nobody understands his office better than he.” 
The good old minister went into the room where the swindlers sat before the empty looms. “Heaven preserve us!” he thought, and opened his eyes wide, “I cannot see anything at all,” but he did not say so. Both swindlers requested him to come near, and asked him if he did not admire the exquisite pattern and the beautiful colours, pointing to the empty looms. The poor old minister tried his very best, but he could see nothing, for there was nothing to be seen. “Oh dear,” he thought, “can I be so stupid? I should never have thought so, and nobody must know it! Is it possible that I am not fit for my office? No, no, I cannot say that I was unable to see the cloth.”
“Now, have you got nothing to say?” said one of the swindlers, while he pretended to be busily weaving.
“Oh, it is very pretty, exceedingly beautiful,” replied the old minister looking through his glasses. “What a beautiful pattern, what brilliant colours! I shall tell the emperor that I like the cloth very much.”
“We are pleased to hear that,” said the two weavers, and described to him the colours and explained the curious pattern. The old minister listened attentively, that he might relate to the emperor what they said; and so he did.
Now the swindlers asked for more money, silk and gold-cloth, which they required for weaving. They kept everything for themselves, and not a thread came near the loom, but they continued, as hitherto, to work at the empty looms.
Soon afterwards the emperor sent another honest courtier to the weavers to see how they were getting on, and if the cloth was nearly finished. Like the old minister, he looked and looked but could see nothing, as there was nothing to be seen.
“Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?” asked the two swindlers, showing and explaining the magnificent pattern, which, however, did not exist.
“I am not stupid,” said the man. “It is therefore my good appointment for which I am not fit. It is very strange, but I must not let any one know it;” and he praised the cloth, which he did not see, and expressed his joy at the beautiful colours and the fine pattern. “It is very excellent,” he said to the emperor.
Everybody in the whole town talked about the precious cloth. At last the emperor wished to see it himself, while it was still on the loom. With a number of courtiers, including the two who had already been there, he went to the two clever swindlers, who now worked as hard as they could, but without using any thread.
“Is it not magnificent?” said the two old statesmen who had been there before. “Your Majesty must admire the colours and the pattern.” And then they pointed to the empty looms, for they imagined the others could see the cloth.
“What is this?” thought the emperor, “I do not see anything at all. That is terrible! Am I stupid? Am I unfit to be emperor? That would indeed be the most dreadful thing that could happen to me.”
“Really,” he said, turning to the weavers, “your cloth has our most gracious approval;” and nodding contentedly he looked at the empty loom, for he did not like to say that he saw nothing. All his attendants, who were with him, looked and looked, and although they could not see anything more than the others, they said, like the emperor, “It is very beautiful.” And all advised him to wear the new magnificent clothes at a great procession which was soon to take place. “It is magnificent, beautiful, excellent,” one heard them say; everybody seemed to be delighted, and the emperor appointed the two swindlers “Imperial Court weavers.”
The whole night previous to the day on which the procession was to take place, the swindlers pretended to work, and burned more than sixteen candles. People should see that they were busy to finish the emperor’s new suit. They pretended to take the cloth from the loom, and worked about in the air with big scissors, and sewed with needles without thread, and said at last: “The emperor’s new suit is ready now.”
The emperor and all his barons then came to the hall; the swindlers held their arms up as if they held something in their hands and said: “These are the trousers!” “This is the coat!” and “Here is the cloak!” and so on. “They are all as light as a cobweb, and one must feel as if one had nothing at all upon the body; but that is just the beauty of them.”
“Indeed!” said all the courtiers; but they could not see anything, for there was nothing to be seen.
“Does it please your Majesty now to graciously undress,” said the swindlers, “that we may assist your Majesty in putting on the new suit before the large looking-glass?”
The emperor undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put the new suit upon him, one piece after another; and the emperor looked at himself in the glass from every side.
“How well they look! How well they fit!” said all. “What a beautiful pattern! What fine colours! That is a magnificent suit of clothes!”
The master of the ceremonies announced that the bearers of the canopy, which was to be carried in the procession, were ready.
“I am ready,” said the emperor. “Does not my suit fit me marvellously?” Then he turned once more to the looking-glass, that people should think he admired his garments. 
The chamberlains, who were to carry the train, stretched their hands to the ground as if they lifted up a train, and pretended to hold something in their hands; they did not like people to know that they could not see anything.
The emperor marched in the procession under the beautiful canopy, and all who saw him in the street and out of the windows exclaimed: “Indeed, the emperor’s new suit is incomparable! What a long train he has! How well it fits him!” Nobody wished to let others know he saw nothing, for then he would have been unfit for his office or too stupid. Never emperor’s clothes were more admired.
“But he has nothing on at all,” said a little child at last. “Good heavens! listen to the voice of an innocent child,” said the father, and one whispered to the other what the child had said. “But he has nothing on at all,” cried at last the whole people. That made a deep impression upon the emperor, for it seemed to him that they were right; but he thought to himself, “Now I must bear up to the end.” And the chamberlains walked with still greater dignity, as if they carried the train which did not exist.
The Face of Allah
A dervish once took a rest under a tree, when his peaceful slumber was disturbed by a furious villager shouting at him:
"Blasphemy! Insult! How dare you!"
So the dervish opened his eyes in astonishment and the men continued:
"Your feet! Your feet point to Mecca. This is an unbearable insult! You are sticking your dirty stinking feet right into the face of Allah!"
The dervish rubbed his eyes and replied:
"I am honestly sorry and apologize: but if you could find it in your heart to help? Please tell me, in which direction I won’t find Allah, so I can place my feet there…"
The Judgment of God - A Sufi Tale
Excerpt from Master of the Jinn: A Sufi Novel by Irving Karchmar
Not so long ago, as time is counted, there came to a certain oasis far in the western desert a faqir. He was a Qalandar, a wandering darvish, who had walked the deserts of Africa and Arabia for many years, seeking only solitude wherein he could remember his Creator and contemplate the Divine mysteries. His virtue and faith, his submission to the will of God, had been rewarded with tranquility of spirit, and his sincerity and devotion on the path of Love was such that the Hidden had been revealed to his heart, and he had become a Wali, a Friend of God.
Now it came to pass that the night the faqir wandered into this oasis and lay beneath a palm tree to rest before the midnight prayer, there was, unknown to him, another man under a nearby tree who was also making camp for the night.
But the other man was a notorious bandit, once the feared chieftain of a band of robbers who had for years plundered the spice caravans and waylaid rich merchants on their way from the coastal cities to the inland towns. The outcry against his merciless raids, however, had at last reached the ears of the Sultan and he had ordered his soldiers to hunt down the band and destroy them. Many were caught and beheaded. Many others deserted their chief out of fear that they would share the fate of their comrades.
Eventually, this evil man found himself alone. His purse was now empty, every last coin having been spent in escape, and he was a hunted criminal with a price on his head. Even his former allies, those dishonest merchants who had bought his stolen goods, closed their doors against him. They also feared, lest the wrath of the Sultan fall upon their necks. And so he had fled for many days across the desert and come at last to the oasis where, tired and hungry, he sat beneath a tree and cursed his wretched fate.
Now I ask you, which of these two men is the greater, and which the less? Whom has God blessed and whom has He cursed? No, do not answer! You do not know the answer, for you are not their judge. The Creator alone is the judge of His creation.
Munkir and Nakir, however, the angels who question the dead when they are assigned to the grave, looked upon the scene of the two men and sighed. ‘Surely,’ said Munkir ‘here at least the true gold may be seen from the false. These two may be judged, though their end is not yet come. God will have the greater, and Satan the less.’
‘Alas! It must be so,’ agreed Nakir. ‘True gold is the most rare, and therefore are the fields of heavens spacious indeed, while the halls of Hell are filled to bursting, overflowing even the deepest pits.’
Now God perceived the thoughts of His servants, and spoke to the hearts of the two angels. ‘Verily, thou hast pronounced their just fate,’ He said. ‘Yet woe unto mankind had I created the world by justice alone. Am I not the Merciful and Compassionate? Behold! I will visit them with sleep and visions that thou shalt know the truth of My creation.’
Thus the Lord sent sleep and mighty dreams to the faqir and the wretched thief. And lo, the Qalandar awoke in hell, even into the midst of the great fires of the pit. And the bandit chief arose in Paradise, where he stood among the saints before the very Throne of God.
The Master laid down his spent pipe and sipped his tea. His eyes searched our faces over the rim of the glass. “Is it mercy to send the worst of man to heaven?” he asked. “Or justice to send the best of man to hell?”
No one dared answer.
“Good!” he said soothingly. “To cleanse the heart of judgment is to discern the Way of Love. And such was the lesson of Munkir and Nakir. For they beheld the faqir awaken in the very midst of Hell, and saw that most worthy of men rise up naked as the fires burned his flesh and the cries of tormented souls pierced his ears. Yet he did not feel pain at the touch of the flames, and showed neither surprise nor fear. His thought was only of his Beloved, and no affliction was great enough to sway his love. He sat among the fires and the torment as a darvish sits, and in a voice clear and strong he began to sing.
‘La Illah illa Allah! La Illaha illa Allah!’
The fires blazed furiously as the song began and then dimmed to smoldering embers, and the burning mountains trembled at the Holy Name. Now the tormented souls ceased their wailing to listen, for the name of God is not uttered in the pits. Then there was no other sound to be heard but his, and the song went on and on until the very foundations of Hell were shaken, and the damned souls began to feel a spark of forbidden hope.
Surely Hell would have fallen into ruin had not Satan himself appeared, and begged the faqir to depart. But the old man would not move, for he had walked many years on the Path of Love, and the Beloved’s Will was his will, whether it be paradise or eternal fire.
The Master paused for a moment to again sip the tea beside him. He did not look at us until he began the tale again. “
And what of the thief?” he asked, when the glass was empty. “This chieftain of bandits who was once so feared and terrible, and who had fallen into wretchedness and misery, the fate of all such men in the end.”
God caused the two angels to perceive his vision also, and they saw him rise and stand robed in white, trembling amidst the host of heaven, before the Throne of Almighty God. And the angel Gabriel spoke unto him.
‘By the mercy of the Lord, thy Creator, thy earthly deeds are forgiven thee,’ he said. ‘Come now and be at peace.’
And now the truth filled his heart, and great wonder, and every veil fell from his eyes; and he saw with a clear sight the Majesty and Beauty of His Compassion, and he wept.
And the Lord God spoke unto him, and said: ‘O man, fear not. For thou canst not fall so low that I cannot raise thee up.’
And fear left the thief. He prostrated himself before his God and wept. On and on flowed the endless tears of his wasted life, until they became the very waters of mercy and would not cease; and the feet of the saints were washed by his tears.
He would have wept for eternity had not the vision ended and the two men abruptly awakened. Then the thief saw the faqir as he stood, and came to him still weeping from the dream. And the faqir perceived all that had befallen them and embraced him, and they prayed together at the midnight hour even unto the dawn. Much befell them afterwards, for the thief became the disciple of the faqir, but that is all of their tale I will tell.
And Munkir and Nakir, who had witnessed but the tiniest particle of the unending Mercy of God, bowed before their Creator in submission, and in shame of their rash condemnation. For surely beyond the comprehension of men and angels is the Judgment of God.
The Land of Fools
Chinese folk tale
Once a man strayed into the world known as the Land of Fools where he saw a number of people fleeing in terror from a field where they had been trying to harvest wheat. There is a monster in that field,” they told him.
Upon close examination the man saw that it was a watermelon. The stranger offered to kill the monster for them. He walked into the field, cut the melon from its stalk, took a slice and began to eat it.
Now the people were more terrified of him than they had been of the melon. They drove him away with pitchforks crying, “He will kill us next, unless we get rid of him.”
Years later a second man strayed into the Land of Fools and the same thing happened to him. But, instead of offering to help them with the monster, he agreed with them that it must be dangerous, and by tiptoeing away from it with them he gained their confidence.
He spent a long time with them in their houses until he could teach them, little by little, the basic facts which would enable them not only to lose their fear of melons, but even to cultivate them.
The Noble Ring
The son kneeled at his father’s bed. "My son" the dying says "I have for you nothing but this noble ring. Beware - if once you may be - God forbid - in dire distress, you are allowed to open it. The ring holds the rescueing answer." and passed away.
The son now lived a happy life and experienced - off course who not - both grievances and happiness. But no emergency deemed yet grave enough to use his father’s ring.
And so he once - on camel’s back - traversed a dessert when evil scoundrels followed him and now he feared for life and property for he could not escape. He stopped, dismounted, opened now his legacy and found engraved in golden letters:
This Too Shall Pass…
The Origin of the Religions
Once upon a time - well actually once before a time - a renowned yogi taught the Art of Meditation. As it happens this very Master also was very fond of a lovely kitten, that got into the habit of cuddling up in the Master's lap during meditation time where she purred and purred and purred...
Of course, nothing could disturb the realized soul of the Master on it's way to the Source but his eager disciples took offence at that monotonous repetitious sound: "Purr...purr...purr..."
Some joined the cat, others fell asleep and so the eldest of his disciples approached the Master respectfully and asked: "Master, we humbly beg you to remove the cat during mediation time. It is too much of a distraction."
The Great Heart of the loving Master showed compassion and ordered as a rule that the cat be tied to the kitchen table during meditation times. A sigh of relief went through the ashram and from now on when the devotees assembled for meditation, the Master's kitten was tied to the kitchen table so every one went on with his practice peacefully...
The years passed, the cat died and was replaced by another one that liked to stroll about the nearby woods. Nonetheless as it was imperative to abide by the Master's rules, it was caught and tied to the kitchen table - during meditation hours of course.
When finally the Master united with the Source he was followed by his eldest disciple who revered his late Master very much and found his mission in literally observing and handing down every single teaching to posterity. So the cat was tied to the kitchen table during meditation hours.
Thus it is no surprise, that centuries later we find hundreds and hundreds of scriptures on the "Importance of Tying the Master's Cat to the Kitchen Table and it's Influence on the Adept's Worship of God."
That is the Origin of the Religions.
The Question of whether there is a God
A man asked Mr. K. whether there is a God. Mr. K. said: “I advise you to consider whether, depending on the answer, your behaviour would change. If it would not change, then we can drop the question. If it would change, then I can at least be of help to the extent that I can say, you have already decided: you need a God.”
The Rising Sun
A Master asked his disciples how they would know that the sun had risen.
"When I can tell the difference between a mango tree and a mojo tree?" one of the disciples answered.
"No, that is not the way." replied the Master.
"Then when I can tell a horse from a cow on top of a large hill?"
"No", said the Master, "that is not the way either."
The disciples shrugged their shoulders and asked the Master to tell them how they can tell that the sun has risen.
"When a stranger comes to you, and in their face, you can see your brother or your sister, then no matter what the time of day, the sun will have risen."
The Rooster Prince
nce upon a time in a land far beyond the horizon a King lived to see his only son turn crazy. His offspring suddenly rid himself of all his garments and decided to live a naked life under the kitchen table as a rooster.
None of the King’s councilors, ministers, nor any of the lackeys or anyone at all, including His Majesty Himself could persuade the straying Dauphin to leave his shelter under the table.
Many months had passed by while rumours spread about the Prince and his strange illness, when a Tzaddik well known for his healing powers arrived at the Court and asked to see the desperate King.
“I will, “ the Jewish Sage was heard, “ without doubt cure your only son provided you will trust me and let me proceed as I see fit.”
And so it was decided. The Tzaddik entered the kitchen and saw a young, naked, clucking man under the table, picking food from the kitchen floor. To everybody’s surprise he immediately took off all his clothes too and squatted next to the Prince.
The King was not amused. But he had given his word and now had two men sitting under his table, pretending to be roosters.
When after a few days the Tzaddik had become friends with his co-rooster he suddenly demanded a pair of trousers and put them on. The Prince was shocked and protested, no rooster, nay, never ever would be seen in trousers! Alas, the Rebbe insisted,
“Why should a rooster not wear trousers? And the floor? It is really cold!”
For a while, the noble heir was really unduly pissed off but: the kitchen floor froze square patterns in his naked three letters and so he followed the Tzaddik’s example and called for trousers too.
A few days later, the Tzaddik-rooster felt cold again and asked for a jacket. The Prince-rooster was flabbergasted, but he had to admit, being cold or warm was a difference to live for.
And so, sock by sock, shirt by shirt, word by word the Tzaddik succeeded in calling the King’s son back into our crazy world.
Rebbe Nachman
as told by .lu
The Whole
A famous philosopher uttered the opinion that a jackass positioned exactly in-between two stacks of hay of equal quality in looks and smell, were positively doomed to starve, because he would no longer be able to make up his mind. When a peasant heard of this he said: "This will only happen to a philosophical jackass. Instead of ‘either-or’ a true jackass will eat ‘as well as’"
Wanting God
A hermit was meditating by a river when a young man interrupted him.
“Master, I wish to become your disciple,” said the man. “Why?” replied the hermit. The young man thought for a moment. “Because I want to find God.”
The master jumped up, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragged him into the river, and plunged his head under water. After holding him there for a minute, with him kicking and struggling to free himself, the master finally pulled him up out of the river. The young man coughed up water and gasped to get his breath. When he eventually quieted down, the master spoke. “Tell me, what did you want most of all when you were under water.” “Air!” answered the man.
“Very well,” said the master. “Go home and come back to me when you want God as much as you just wanted air.”
(This is really an Universal story: I know versions with Nasrudin or a Yogi…)
What’s wise about the wise man is his stance
A philosophy professor came to see Mr. K. and told him about his wisdom. After a while Mr. K. said to him: “You sit uncomfortably, you talk uncomfortably, you think uncomfortably.” The philosophy professor became angry and said: “I didn’t want to hear anything about myself but about the substance of what I was talking about.” “It has no substance,” said Mr. K. “I see you walking clumsily and, as far as I can see, you’re not getting anywhere. You talk obscurely, and you create no light with your talking. Seeing your stance, I’m not interested in what you’re getting at.”
Why Frog and Snake never play together
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Once upon a time, the child of the frog was hopping along in the bush when he spied someone new lying across the path before him. This someone was long and slender, and his skin seemed to shine, with all the colors of rainbow. “Hello there,” called Frog-child. “What are you doing lying here in the path?” “Just warming myself in the sun,” answered the awesome new, twisting and turning and turning and uncoiling himself. “My name is Snake-child. What’s yours?” “I’m Frog-child. Would you like to play with me?” “So Frog-child and Snake-child played together all morning in the bush. “Watch what I can do,” said Frog-child, and he hopped high into the air. “I’ll teach you how, if you want,” he offered. So he taught Snake-child how to hop, and together they hopped up and own the path through the bush. “Now watch what I can do,” said Snake-child, and he crawled on his belly and climb into trees. After a while they both grew hungry and decided to go home for lunch, but they promised each other to meet again the next day. “Thanks for teaching me how to hop,” called Snake-child.
Then they each went home. |
“Look what I can do, Mother!” cried Frog-child, crawling on his belly. “Where did you learn how to do that?” his mother asked. “Snake-child taught me,” he answered. “We played together in the bush this morning. He’s my new friend.” “Don’t you know the Snake family is a bad family?” His mother asked. “They have poison in their teeth. Don’t ever let me catch you playing with them again. And don’t let me see you crawling on your belly, either. It isn’t proper.” Meanwhile, Snake-child went home and hopped up and down for his mother to see. “Who taught you to do that?” she asked. “Frog-child did,” he said. “He’s my new friend.” “What foolishness,” said his mother. “Don’t you know we’ve been on bad terms with the Frog family for longer than anyone can remember? The next time you play with Frog-child, catch him and eat him up. And stop that hopping. It isn’t our custom.” So the next morning when Frog-child met Snake-child in the bush, he kept his distance.
Snake-child eyed him quietly, remembering what his mother had told him. “If he gets too close, I’ll spring at him and eat him,” he thought. But then he remembered how much fun they had together, and how nice Frog-child had been to teach him how to hop. So he sighed sadly to himself and slid away into the bush. |
| And from that day onward, Frog-child and Snake-child never played together again. But they often sat alone in the sun, each thinking about their one day friendship. | |
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an African folktale found via Healing Story Alliance on |
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“Thanks for teaching me how to crawl up trees,” called Frog-child.
“I’m afraid I can’t go crawling with you today,” he called, hopping back a hop or two.Yours Humbly
Mr. T., the richest member of the community, entered the house of Worship, when he suddenly was struck by the intense presence of the moment and clearly felt,
"I am nothing."
As the awareness of his non-existence grew stronger he could no longer resist and started endless prostrations,
"I am nothing! Nothing I am!"
Two minutes later he was found by Mr. B., a senior member of the Charity Committee, who immediately perceived the sanctity of the time and now joined Mr. T. in his prostrations, chanting just like him,
"I am nothing! Nothing I am!"
Another two minutes later, the janitor entered the hall where he just like Mr. T. and Mr. B. was overwhelmed by the spiritual experience of Annihilation and so he fell to his knees and started,
"I am nothing! Nothing I am!" when the members of the local respectability turned, stared at him and simultaneously exclaimed:
"Who do you think you are to believe you're nothing?!"