The Woodcutter's Wisdom

Friends,

"The end of the matter is better than the beginning," penned the sage.
"Be...patient in affliction," echoed the apostle Paul.
"Don't judge a phrase by one word," stated the woodcutter.

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Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before -- such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength. People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. "The horse is not a horse to me," he would tell them. "It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?" The man was poor and the temptation was great, but he never sold the horse.

One morning, he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came to see him. "You old fool," they scoffed..."we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better if you had sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. Now the horse is gone, and you've been cursed with misfortune."

The old man responded, "Don't speak too quickly...say only that the horse is not in the stable -- that is all that we know; the rest is judgment. If I've been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?

The people contested, "Don't make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse."

The old man spoke again. "All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I do not know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can't say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?"

The people of the village laughed. They thought the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn't, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. Instead, he was a poor woodcutter...and old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of povery. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn't been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again, the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. "Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us."

To be continued...indeed, blessings,

Don