The finger
When you dream, dream big! In need, don’t beg for trifles! The smart pauper looks for changing his condition, not for alms that keep him another day as he is, a beggar. Additionally, mind the old proverb: The man who gives you fish, feeds you for a day. The one who teaches you to fish feeds you for a lifetime. All this reminds me of a story:
At one time Nasreddin was a beggar. Worse, as a timid mendicant, he was seeking charity - sweating and itching in his miserable rags, on his knees, with a look that would have broken even a tax collector’s heart – but in a lonely place where no one could have ever seen him, at the side of a deserted road by the shallow salt lake of Tuz Golu.
Most unexpectedly (Allah is the giver of all) a Sufi saint or, perhaps, kind-hearted djinn in dervish disguise – you never know for sure – came by, walking and whirling on the waters.
Compassion made him pause in front of the ragged Hoça. The immortal considered the starving beggar with pity and silence, for a while. Then, without a word, he pointed his finger at a stone and lo, it turned at once into gold! He gave the nugget to the Mullah.
Nasreddin didn’t look excessively satisfied with the alms.
The saint raised his eyebrow but touched another stone bigger yet, with the same munificent finger, and lo, it turned into solid gold too!
This time the Hodja appeared to be quite frustrated.
“What a funny mortal this one!” thought the miraculous being. He tried charity once more. This time his finger transmuted a whole heavy boulder into shining, precious metal.
Nasreddin pulled a long face in obvious disappointment and stared the saint in the eye with impertinence.
“I want more!” he said eventually.
“What on earth do you want more than this?”
“I want your finger.”
Most unexpectedly (Allah is the giver of all) a Sufi saint or, perhaps, kind-hearted djinn in dervish disguise – you never know for sure – came by, walking and whirling on the waters.
Compassion made him pause in front of the ragged Hoça. The immortal considered the starving beggar with pity and silence, for a while. Then, without a word, he pointed his finger at a stone and lo, it turned at once into gold! He gave the nugget to the Mullah.
Nasreddin didn’t look excessively satisfied with the alms.
The saint raised his eyebrow but touched another stone bigger yet, with the same munificent finger, and lo, it turned into solid gold too!
This time the Hodja appeared to be quite frustrated.
“What a funny mortal this one!” thought the miraculous being. He tried charity once more. This time his finger transmuted a whole heavy boulder into shining, precious metal.
Nasreddin pulled a long face in obvious disappointment and stared the saint in the eye with impertinence.
“I want more!” he said eventually.
“What on earth do you want more than this?”
“I want your finger.”
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