Visits of Kings

A Tale from the Middle East

     The Imperial Majesty visited a small teahouse one morning. He called for an omelet. With great ceremony he was flattered and served the omelet on the crude tableware of the teahouse. The owner apologized over and over for the common cloth on the table and the simple furniture. "Not at all up to the standards of a king!" he said.

"It's fine," the king reassured him. "How much do I owe for the omelet?"

"For you, Sire, the omelet will be 1,000 pieces of gold."

"Whoa!" The king raised an eyebrow. "Eggs must be expensive around here. Is that because they are scarce?"

"It's not the eggs which are scarce around here, Your Majesty," said the shopkeeper, "It is the visits of kings!"

Cooking by Candle

A Sufi Tale from the Middle East

     Mula bet some friends he could survive a night on an icy mountain with nothing to warm him. Taking only a book and a candle for some light, he sat through the frigid night. When he came down to claim his winnings, his friends asked, "Did you take anything up there with you to keep warm?"

"No," said Mula, "just a small candle to read by."

"Aha!" they exclaimed, "Then you lose!"

     

     A week later he invited these same friends to a feast. They waited and waited for food. "Dinner's not ready," said Mula, "Come and see why!"

In the kitchen they saw a huge pot of water under which a small candle was burning. Mula said, "Does this remind you of our bet? I've been trying to heat this pot of water over this candle since yesterday and it's not warm yet!"

The Stolen Ax

This is A Taoist Tale from China by Lieh Tzux
     A woodcutter went out one morning to cut some firewood and discovered that his favorite ax was missing. He couldn't find it anywhere. Then he noticed his neighbor's son standing near the woodshed. The woodcutter thought, "Aha! That boy must have stolen my ax. I see how he lurks about the shed, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, greedy hands stuffed in his pockets, a guilty look on his face. I can't prove it, but he MUST have stolen my ax."
     A few days later the woodcutter was surprised and happy to come upon the ax under a pile of firewood. "I remember now," he said, "Just where I'd left it!"

The next time he saw his neighbor's son, the woodcutter looked intently at the boy, scrutinizing him from head to toe. How odd, he thought, somehow this boy has lost his guilty look . . .