Once Upon A Time

April 15, 1998

Stories are told to children long before they begin their ABCs. Adults respond to stories and learn from them, too. The story teller is more ancient than the formal historian. The Bard antedates the essayist. A lecture on moral principles is less pungent than a pertinent parable; a fable less distasteful than moralistic exhortations. When Hamlet (Act II, Sc. ii) ends a monologue:

“... the play’s the thing
Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the King.”

he was emphasizing the power of a story.

So, in this Musing, two stories represent wisdom in living. No explanations or conclusions, just stories or parables.

I – Muddy Road

Two Buddhist Monks, Tanzan and Ekido were once traveling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was still falling.

Coming around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection. “Come on, girl,” said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud.

Ekido did not speak until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he could no longer restrain himself. “We monks don’t go near females,” he told Tanzan, “especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?”

“I left the girl there,” said Tanzan, “are you still carrying her?”

II – Jade Student

This is the story of a man who wanted to start a jade collection. He was a rich man, but didn’t want to be cheated, so he determined to seek instruction in jade grading from the most famous connoisseur in the world. Through a friend he was introduced to an expert on jade, and learned that the course consisted of twelve lessons and would cost a thousand dollars. “That’s all right,” he said, “How do the lessons go?”

“You come here every week for one hour, and in twelve weeks you will know how to evaluate jade,” the teacher responded.

Each week the man went for his lesson, and each week his teacher placed a different piece of jade in in his hand and walked from the room. That was all. At the end of the eleventh lesson, the student was so angry he complained bitterly to the friend who had arranged the lessons. “You led me astray. You let me think this man was really an expert and look what what I’ve got for my pains – eleven hours of holding a stupid piece of jade in my hand.”

Together they went to the twelfth lesson. Again the jade expert simply put a piece of jade in the hands of his pupil and walked out of the room.

“You see?” said the pupil to his friend, “not only has he wasted my time and money for the first eleven hours, but to add insult to injury, in the last hour he gives me a fake piece of jade.”

(I have lost the source of these stories so I am unable to give proper credit. )