The Tale of Janek, Always in Trouble

Janek lived in the frozen north. For eight months of the year the ground beneath his feet was solid, hard and frozen. He had a sister called Sylvie. His mother and father kept the family alive by following the herds of caribou – a kind of deer from which they obtained meat and hide. Janek’s father had a very loud voice. He could shout across the frozen ground. His voice seemed to carry for miles. Janek loved to go out with his father to check on the deer. They usually went on foot, using short flat skis and ski poles. Now Janek was the sort of boy who always wanted to try to make things happen. He was never satisfied with things as they were. He liked to imagine what would happen if he did this or that and often those things annoyed his parents. When they went to count the herd, Janek’s father always pulled a little sled which had grass nuts in a sack. With these he could tempt the caribou to come closer so that he could inspect them one by one to check for example if the females were pregnant or are if any were lame or wounded. He had to make hard decisions about weak deer. They were a burden to the herd and had to be culled. He didn’t like to do it, but he would shoot sick deer. He would perhaps skin them taking the hide if it was good enough but he always left the carcass for the wild animals to dispose of. He realised that if the wolves were eating carcasses from the culled deer they would not be killing the healthy young deer.

Janek was fascinated by his father’s gun. He was not allowed to touch it as he had shown himself to be a careless lad who could not be relied upon to take care of valuable equipment. He had borrowed his father’s tools and left them out only to be buried by the next fall of snow and not found again until the spring when they re-appeared rusty and useless. He did not listen carefully to instructions when people were explaining things to him because he always thought he knew how to do things even when he didn’t. Time proved again and again that he had not listened and that he did not know what he was doing. But Janek was not one to learn from his mistakes.

One day Janek’s friend came to stay for the weekend. Janek wanted to impress the lad. His father had gone off to deal with some problem in the village. Janek decided he would show his friend how good he was with a gun. Now Janek had never actually used the gun. He had watched his father use it and he thought it would be very easy to shoot down some tin cans that he set up on a low wall outside the family home.

He got his friend to line the cans up in a row and to stand back.

“Bet I can knock them all down,” said he.

Janek eyed along the sight of the gun and pulled the trigger. The gun went off with an almighty crack. It jolted back against his shoulder and hit him very hard on the top of his arm. The pain was terrible. Janek dropped the gun on the ground. He couldn’t hold it any longer. His arm was hanging down at a strange angle.

“I’ll get your mother!” shouted his friend disappearing out of sight. Janek felt faint. The pain was terrific. He managed to walk towards the house a little way then his legs crumpled beneath him.  He fell to the ground.

Janek’s mother came rushing out of the house. “Whatever have you done this time?” she cried in a voice both worried and exasperated. “Oh, you’ve dislocated your shoulder, how did you do that?”  But Janek didn’t speak. He didn’t want to tell his mother about this latest escapade. Firing the gun was strictly forbidden to him.

His mother used the radio to speak to the flying doctor. Three painful hours later a helicopter landed in Janek’s field. The doctor asked Janek how he had dislocated his shoulder. “I fell on it,” Janek lied. The doctor gave his shoulder bone a sudden painful push. Janek felt the joint click back into place. The doctor disappeared very quickly as once again the skies were leaden with heavy snow. That night the snow fell again. Janek’s father was unable to find his gun. The boy was too scared to tell him what had happened to it. For weeks the gun was missing, hidden beneath the snow. Its well oiled parts had become dull and rusty. Sick animals limped along with the herd. The Wolves took three young caribou that spring. The gun was never the same again. Janek’s father gradually pieced together the story and felt angry, ashamed that his son was a liar.

Janek’s family went to live in the nearby town. His father was so disheartened by the bad behaviour of his son, whom he could not trust to tell him the truth or to be safe or careful with anything. His father went off for several months in the year taking Janek’s sister Sylvie with him instead of his son. He could trust Sylvie. He said that she wouldn’t do stupid things and get herself and other people into trouble.

Janek felt ashamed of himself. It seemed to him that he had two voices speaking to him and he had always listened to the one which suggested he that he did stupid things. Gradually as he got older Janek started to pay attention to his other voice – the more sensible one which knew what the right thing to do was. As he grew older he did not hear his father’s angry voice shouting at him from a great distance because there was no longer any need for it.  His father had noticed that Janek’s behaviour was better.

Janek had started to listen to his own voice of reason and felt much happier in himself as a result. He did know how to behave well after all. He could make the right decisions. He wasn’t stupid. He could be trusted.

Questions

Did the story remind you of anything in your life? What?

What was the result of Janek showing off to his friend?

Can you think of a time when you did things without thinking about what damage you might cause?

Do you sometimes feel as if you have a sensible voice and a stupid voice both telling you what to do, inside your head?  Which voice do you listen to? 

How would you advise your friend who kept getting into trouble?

Some thoughts from Finland.

In our country we have several traditional occupations.  In the past we used to hunt the wildlife, capturing bears and reindeer, and any creature that would provide us with food or fur.  Things have changed a great deal in the last century.  We have become mechanised, integrated, specialised and at the same time the need for flexibility has arisen.

The artisan has needed to learn computer skills.  He may still ply his trade but now the world has become his market.  He sells his goods on the internet.  Small co-operatives have sprung up where previously individuals worked alone.  Within these groups specialisms have arisen.  In general they all understand their trade but those most skilled in production, those most artistic and accomplished crafts people continue to produce their artefacts.  Others within the group develop skills of marketing, advertising and selling the goods.

We have found it most effective to learn several skills in order to deal with modern demands.  One market closes and another opens.  Individuals are required to be flexible and prepared to learn and change.  That way we can respond to the market quickly and keep ahead. 

My family provides an example of this flexibility.  We have a white wood furniture business.  There is a high demand for our beautifully designed kitchens in Europe and America.  We have watched recessions come and go.  The work force has fluctuated somewhat, but we always try to keep as many as we can employed.  We find that those who are most skilled and specialised are the ones who are worst affected in recessions, so we have a policy which deals with this problem.  We insist that all employees train to work in at least two or three departments.  Sure, it costs us money, but it means we have a flexible workforce able to adapt to changes and confident that if their preferred work dried up they could do other kinds of work.  This could be within the company or they might need to work outside the company in their second or third area of expertise. 

This approach makes for a calm resilient workforce grateful for their opportunities to develop their skills.  They are loyal to the company but know that they could cope if they have to leave.  That is our solution to anticipating the changes in this fluid market and employment situation.  What are your solutions?

Questions  

How does company policy on health affect people’s flexibility and attitudes?  Are employees encouraged to look after their health in positive and constructive ways?

Is there a genuine system in place that allows people to air their concerns without fear of retribution?

Is there a counselling and advice service available to employees, or within a small company a person who is trained to deal with confidential matters?

The Circus Comes to Town

I was sitting on my front door step feeling very sorry for myself.  My mother said I should stop sulking.  My father just gave me a dirty look and went on with his work.

My brother has a friend who lives down the road.  He had invited my brother Peter to go to the circus because it was his birthday.  I was not invited.

The circus!  I would love to see the circus.  How exciting.  I’ve seen pictures of people on high wires and trapezes.  I’ve seen photos of clowns and seen them on TV, but I was not invited to go.  Sometimes life just doesn’t seem fair.  I felt two big fat tears running down my cheeks.

My grandma appeared at the front door.  Grandma usually had a bit of time to spend with me.  I stood up and gave her a tearful hug.

‘What’s the matter my Chickadee?’  she asked.  ‘ Has the dog died?’

We didn’t have a dog.  We had no dog to die and she knew we didn’t like dogs anyway.  She made me smile.

‘I’m not invited to the circus with Peter and Rubin and I really, really want to go.’

‘Oh dear, that’s a pity.  It’s Rubin’s birthday isn’t it?  Well I expect boys of ten don’t want girls of seven at their birthday party trip.  Did you invite Rubin to your birthday treat when you went to the cinema?  Did you invite Peter?  No, I don’t think you did.  I remember you saying it was girls only.’

‘ Yes, but that was only to the cinema.  We could go to the cinema any time, but the circus, it doesn’t come very often does it?’

‘It will come again next year  Chickadee, and you will enjoy it all the more, because at your age now you may be frightened by what you seem to see.  When I was your age I went to the circus and I saw a clown lose his head in the piano.  He popped his head into the top of the piano to look  inside it and another clown slammed the lid down on him.  He came up with no head at all!!  Red juice was spurting up like a fountain, of course it wasn’t blood, but I didn’t know that.  I was very upset, but the audience thought it was a great joke.  My dad was laughing so much that he didn’t notice that I was crying.  I just hid my face and didn’t watch any more clowning.  I didn’t know it was just a trick, and that the clown still had his head very firmly on his shoulders, but he had hidden it under his special big coat and seemed to be running around headless!  It wasn’t until several long dragon puppets appeared with two people inside each one, tossing and twirling the dragons, that I came out of hiding.’

Now let’s think about the circus trip that you are not going on. Be grateful for what you can do and for what you have in your life.  Don’t be looking at what others are doing  or having.  There will always be someone who does more or has more than you.  So what?  That is not a problem.  Would you want another little girl to be complaining to her mother that she doesn’t have exactly the same as you?  No, of course not!  Let us all enjoy what we do have and let others do the same without us feeling upset about it.  It’s called envy, or jealousy, when we feel bad like that.  It is a bit like a sickness – they say people go green with envy.  They don’t of course, but it can make you feel horrible and it is not healthy for your mind to be filled with envy.  Now go and wash your face and wash all that green sludge away, it’s not doing you any good at all!

Grandma was right of course.  I always noticed when I was beginning to feel jealous about something. I remembered Grandma’s words and stopped those thoughts before they made me feel bad.

Questions:

Did the story remind you of anything in your life?

Why was the girl upset at the beginning of the story?

Have you ever felt envious of someone?  What was the reason?  What do you think about it now that you have heard this story?

Has anyone been jealous of you? How do you know?

What do people who are jealous sometimes do?

What does it mean to be ‘grateful’ for something?

Lucy and the Laptop

Under the beautifully decorated tree lay an intriguing package.  Lucy thought it might just be what she had been hoping and praying for.  It was one of the last presents to be opened.  In Lucy’s family Christmas was ruled by several traditions, one was that everyone had to take it in turns to open presents and the smallest ones were handed out first.  Lucy waited until the very last present came to be handed out.  It was for her.  Could it be…? Yes it was, her very own laptop computer!  Wow!  Now she would be able to chat to her friends on Facebook and Bebo and send emails to her cousins in Australia.  Lucy was in a daze thinking about all the things she could do on her new computer.

Lucy’s parents were not very interested in computers themselves, so Lucy’s cousin Jack set it up for her.  He put the antivirus software onto it and checked that her programmes were all ready for use.

After Christmas dinner Lucy took the laptop to her room.  The others were all either dozing in front of the TV or playing with their new toys.  Lucy was the eldest child in her family and her parents were careful to give her some space and time for herself as it would have been too easy to keep asking her to look after the baby or the twins who were four years her junior.

Lucy made herself a Facebook page and wondered which of her class mates she could ‘speak to’.  Her two best friends were not on Facebook.  Lucy suddenly realised that although she had wanted very much to be able to go online to contact friends, the people who talked about it most were not exactly her friends.  They were a group of girls in her class who always talked very loudly and who wore their school uniforms in ways which made them look as if they were not uniforms at all.  Their clothes were shorter and tighter than other girl’s clothes.  Lucy’s mother had said they were common girls and that Lucy should stay away from them.

Tap tap tap, Lucy typed the name of the loudest, commonest girl onto the keyboard. Ping.  There she was on the screen, looking five years older than her twelve years, fully made up and pouting for the camera.  Lucy looked at the messages on her ‘wall’.  They were about parties and barbeques on the beach that she and her friends had been to.  Lucy’s heart yearned to become part of that exciting life.

She wanted to go to parties and to the beach with friends.  She had a mad impulse to contact this girl Trina, just to say ‘Hello’.  Who knows, maybe she would get invited out to some of those amazing events.  Lucy wrote her short message and clicked the send button.  Nothing happened and she soon got tired of staring at the empty screen and went to join her family.  Later that evening there was a note from Trina:  ‘Get u Lucy Boots, lookin 4 sum fun r u?’

Lucy shut her computer.  She wasn’t sure what to think what to think.  She was not sure whether to reply as she didn’t think it was a friendly message.

The next day there were three messages from boys who were asking if they could be her friends.  Lucy knew their names.  Two of them were in the year above Lucy at school and one she wasn’t sure if she knew,  but  his photo was nice, he looked very ‘cool’.  Lucy agreed to befriend the boys.  She began to spend quite a lot of time on her computer looking at pop groups and listening to music.  Every day there would be messages from the boys.  Sometimes they made her laugh and sometimes she didn’t understand them.  It was as if they were speaking a different language.  Her English teacher would never have approved of their writing.  If a word could be shortened they would shorten it so that sometimes their messages seemed like nonsense.  However Lucy loved to think that there was someone out there in the world who thought that she was worth ‘talking to’.

When school started back after Christmas Lucy thought the boys would speak to her in the corridors, but it was as if she didn’t exist outside the computer.  They all ignored her completely; so did Trina.  Lucy felt upset.  She decided to ask the very cool looking boy, Jason, why he would not speak to her in school.  She posed the question on Facebook.  Although she had only sent the message to him all three boys replied.

‘We don’t like you Loose Lucy.  We don’t want to speak to you.  You are a robot.’

Lucy felt dreadful.  How could anyone be so unkind and for no reason?  How could she face their icy stares in school?  Why would anyone do such a thing?

Lucy’s mother noticed that she was looking pale and worried and asked her what was the problem. 

‘Nothing, Mum, I’m OK.’ 

‘You are spending too much time on that computer, Lucy,’ said her Dad.  ‘It’s not healthy.  Here look at this article I found in the newspaper today.’

  ‘CYBER-BULLYING IN SCHOOLS’ said the headline.

Lucy went pale, tears welled up in her eyes, and then the story came out.

‘I had no idea about this sort of thing,’ said Lucy’s Mum.

‘What a nasty crew, ‘said Lucy’s Dad.  ‘People like that are best ignored.  They are worth nothing to you.  People who get pleasure out of being unkind to others will soon find they have no friends at all.  You wouldn’t want them as friends in real life, Lucy, so just leave them be.  Hold your head up.  You have done nothing wrong.  Just forget about them.  I’ll have a word with the head teacher just to say this has happened.  I won’t ask him to say anything to those boys, but to the whole school.  You tell me if they try to upset you again.  Meanwhile give that Facebook a miss, or check your settings so that only real friends can contact you.

Questions

Have you experienced either receiving hurtful messages or even sending them? What effect did those messages have? 

Did you know there are good useful explanations about what to do about cyberbullying online?

The three simple things you can do are:  STOP.  BLOCK  and  TELL

Amygdala’s journey

There was once a child called Amygdala. Her beautiful flaxen hair flowed around her head. Her family thought she must be the loveliest creature ever to have been born. They brought her up to expect everything to be perfect in her world. The family was wealthy. Nothing was beyond their reach. The child had clothes and later jewels fit for a princess. Her room was furnished in silks and beautifully carved golden furniture. Large goldfish swam in her pond in the extensive gardens. Roses bloomed from early spring until late autumn and in winter even the snow and icicles took on a perfect appearance.
Amygdala however was not satisfied. Something was missing in her life.
“Father, I cannot be happy here anymore. I must go out into the world and find what it is that I need.”
“But my dear, you have everything you could need. You have a loving family and a beautiful home. You are well=educated, you speak many languages. You have learnt all about history and geography from your tutors. Your life is as complete and well=rounded as it could possibly be for a young woman of your age.”
“Father I know that what you say is true in many ways, however something is missing and I don’t know what it is. I must go out into the world and truly experience these things, people and places that I have learnt about. I know I have more to learn but I do not know what it will be.”
“Very well my child, you may go, but not alone. Your brother Arturo will go with you. He will protect you while you discover something of the world. It can be a dangerous place but Arturo is an accomplished swordsman and will stay by your side.”
Amygdala and Arturo set off on their horses and after a day of travelling they sought somewhere to rest. They knocked at the door of an old cottage at the edge of the forest. An old man bent double with age opened the door. He offered them his room for the night. Arturo slept on a rug on the floor and his sister slept in the narrow cot. She was so tired that sleep came fast. She dreamt that she was in a beautiful palace and that the old man was king. When she awoke she was surprised to find herself in the little cot. The old man gave them a simple meal and sent them on their way. Kindness shone from his eyes. As the days passed Amygdala and Arturo stayed in many different places. All were kind and welcoming to them. Some were curious and asked the pair why they were travelling as they clearly had no idea about where they were going.
“We want to see something more of the world,” was Amygdala’s reply.
“And what do you think about what you have seen?” they would ask.
“I see kindness and beauty wherever we go,” she would say.
One day they crossed a wide river. On the other side people were walking with crutches, poor people, starving people. These people were not offering help, they were asking for it. There was suffering in their faces.
“Arturo, we cannot just walk by and leave these people to suffer. We must try to help them.”
Amygdala and Arturo discovered that these people had been fighting with their neighbouring village. A feud had been going on for many years.
“But why can you not come to an agreement?” asked Amygdala. To have shed so much blood and to suffer so on both sides! I cannot understand you.”
“The world is a hard and cruel place and full of suffering,” said one of the limbless men. “Our neighbours are full of hatred, we cannot agree on peace with them.”
Amygdala and Arturo travelled on. Shortly they came to the next village. The fields were laid bare. Houses and barns had been burnt down. Limbless men walked on crutches. Arturo stopped by the roadside. A child approached him.
“Sir,” he said, “please help us. We have nothing, we are hungry.”
A woman, the child’s mother appeared. She introduced herself as the widow of the headman of the village.
“Why has all this devastation taken place?” asked Amygdala
“My husband was very brave. He fought our neighbours for years, but finally they killed him and burnt our land. It is a cruel world we live in.”
“What could you do to make peace with your neighbours, surely that would be the answer?” asked Amygdala.
“They are a wicked and cruel people. We can never make peace with them.”
Realising that they could not be of any help Amygdala and Arturo crossed back over the river and began their homeward journey. Amygdala felt she had seen enough of the world to help her understand a little more about life.
“It seems to me Arturo that people get what they expect from the world. I expect love kindness and beauty and indeed that is what I find, even outside the confines of my home. Those warring people expect hatred and suffering and that is what they get. They cannot seem to break free of it because they cannot imagine that life is possible without it. They are not willing to make the first move. They know nothing else.”
Amygdala returned to her father’s home and reported her findings.
“Ah, my child, you have discovered a Great Truth: As on the inside, so it is on the outside. May Love Peace and Harmony fill us and be with us all the days of our lives.

The story ends. Teresa the writer or channel is pondering the meaning of it. She sends it to Dinesh as requested. Dinesh immediately understands what the story is saying. The following is his interpretation, thank you Dinesh:

The story is perfect… This theme has been something that keeps returning to my mind, and I’ve been contemplating it for some time now…

What resonated with me :
The princess sees and encounters only happy, helpful people when she herself is filled with happiness and peace….

When she encounters the two villages, she herself does not feel any animosity or anger towards the people in the villages, she remains as an unaffected non-judging observer and so what she is seeing is not a reflection of her own self….

However the villagers themselves are limbless and scarred with suffering, because of how they perceive the other villagers… Similarly the other village suffers because they too feel the same about the neighboring village.

Thanks for the wonderful story, Teresa… Love it.

Om Sai Ram
Dinesh

She was a nurse in a large teaching hospital.  Her husband, Brian,  despite his strong love for her could not give up the things that were slowly killing him. He kept her laughing ‘til the end, inspite of everything.  Then he was gone.  She was in the intensive care unit every day after his heart bypass operation, watching him slowly fade away.  He could not be stopped. 

He used to say that he was amazed that he had reached 60.  He had done so many dangerous things during his lifetime. On one occasion he was swinging on the end of a long rope off a sheer mountainside, saved by one solitary carabina, while rescuing people lost in a mountain blizzard.  He was lowered into the sea from a helicopter on countless occasions, to pick up drowning people.  Once he found himself grappling in the cold Atlantic Ocean with a very large and fat French yachtsman who could not swim.  The man tore at Brian’s face mask and broke his airline.  Brian had to make a tough decision: ‘It’s him or me’.  The Frenchman floated away into the ocean and the crew winched Brian back to safety.  He had broken most of the bones in his body at one time or other, through bravery, foolhardiness and as he admitted, stupidity on occasion.  But as a sober and hardworking man, just one year before receiving his hard earned pension, the cigarettes carried him off.

She was distraught but not very surprised.  He had struggled with his addiction to tobacco for many years.  She felt young, too young to be a widow.  She would have to take another look at her life and try to pick up the pieces.  She knew she must become comfortable in her own skin.  She was no longer one of a pair.  She needed to understand who she was as a person, not always as someone reflected by another.

On the day of his funeral the skies opened and water flowed like rivers down the roads on the moor.  She had never seen anything like it.  She told herself the heavens were weeping for her lost love.

Their friends gathered and celebrated his life.  A man who could talk to anyone, from the Queen Mother with whom he had waltzed, to the men on the factory floor sweeping up dropped pastry.  He could talk well into the night, recounting stories from the past, and now there was just an empty silence.

He had not wanted his death to be announced to the world, no newspaper columns, no obituaries. She kept her mind occupied with work and at home she redecorated the whole house, keeping busy, always busy, but every time she went out she found herself explaining to yet another person that her man had died.  Again and again the tears fell, every person witnessing her grief.

The tears of sorrow changed and became associated with a different feeling.  They seemed to be more about self pity than grief.  At first she hardly noticed the difference, but when she asked herself why she was crying she realised that she had cried out her loss and now she was weeping with pity for herself in her lonely state.

She decided that this was not helping her in any way.  She had many years to enjoy and much to contribute to the world.  Somehow she must find ways of getting what she needed from the world.  She needed friendship – people who care about her to be in her life.  As a couple they had been rather too insular, she needed to develop her friendships and her talents.

That she did, she drummed and sang and joined a band and life improved a lot.  In spite of that joy there was a big hole in her life.  There was no-one to share the joys and sorrows of each day, no-one who cared about where she  was or what she was doing, no loving arms to hold her close and warm.  The men who did approach her were not right for her.  They did not share her mystical insights.  They were too earthbound.

 She had fostered a belief that the Universe provides what we ask for, and in general had found it to be so.  When finally she was feeling as if she had established her own identity and knew well what she herself was, she decided to make a move…..

The Universe responded with alacrity… The story unfolds….If you are a widow, you create the next part yourself, through intention, action, and even prayer.

 Proverbs, 13. 13  New English Bible

Liu Chang was a servant, one of many in the king’s household.   He thought himself to be cleverer than most; he was also ambitious.  He thought that if he planned all his actions carefully he could climb the ladder of seniority amongst the servants and get very close to the king.  Liu Chang was not as clever as he thought himself to be.  Others had noticed his ambitions and had guessed his plans.  People laughed and joked about him behind his back.  Liu Chang was unaware of what his fellows were saying about him.  He tried to make himself popular with the senior servants by attempting to spend time with them and to fetch and carry for them whenever possible.  He even anticipated what they might want and would try to impress them with his eagerness to please.  Sometimes he got it right and brought the correct clothing or equipment, even before he was asked for it.  At other times he made mistakes bringing the wrong tools or weapons, or the wrong costumes.  The other servants would laugh at him.

‘You try too hard, Liu Chang.  You should hold back and wait for instructions.  You do not know the mind of the Master!’

Liu Chang paid no attention.  One day he heard the other servants discussing the funeral of one of the king’s elderly relatives.  Liu started to plan what would be needed for the occasion and to gather it all, ready to be supplied the instant the king required it.

The message came down to the servants’ quarters.  The king required his regalia.  Without waiting to hear the details Liu rushed forward with the funeral gown, boots and head attire suitable for a sombre occasion. He passed by the other servants and went straight to the king’s chamber.

‘Your regalia, your Majesty!’ said Liu, bowing low.

‘What’s this, what’s this?’ said the king. ‘Who are you that comes rushing into my chambers?  What is this that you bring me?  Funeral attire?  Are you planning to ridicule me amongst my people?  My cousin’s wedding would be blighted if I wore these raiments, you foolish servant.  Get away!  Do not trouble me again with your presence.”

Lui Chang bowed low, his face white with shame and fear.  His mistake would ruin his ambitious plans.  On his way back to the servants’ quarters he passed the king’s dresser who said:

‘Ah, it is Liu Chang carrying funeral vestments!  You would not heed our advice Liu Chang, and now you have made yourself ridiculous in the eyes of the king.  You would do better to keep away from the high places and forget your ambitions which are so plain for all to see.  Become humble and serve the children of the courtiers.  Plan ahead for them, for children do not know their own minds.  Perhaps if they come to appreciate you, you will grow in wisdom and humility.  You may come to serve the king again, but until you learn to follow good advice you must learn from the children.

Questions

Why do you think Liu Chang wanted to please the senior servants?

What did he do to try to please them?

Why did people laugh about him behind his back?

Why was the king so angry with him?

What was his punishment for pushing himself forward and bringing the wrong clothing to the king?

What does humility mean to you?

When a wise person gives you advice what do you do?

 When the time came Ahmed started to help his father in his work. Ahmed had a handsome face and people liked him to get them chai and to carry their shopping for them.  Life was simple, chai had a price, everyone knew it.  The sweet drink made customers happy.  As for carrying cases some people were generous, others were not.  In the end Ahmed picked up about the same amount of money every week.

Ahmed had learnt the Holy Koran at the mosque.  He had learnt that it is important to be honest, but with time he started to notice that his father was not always honest with his customers.  Sometimes his father would say one thing and do another.  The customers would be puzzled and some would think, “Ah, this is a language problem,” or that the customs were different in Ahmed’s country.  But what Ahmed’s father did not take into consideration is that people have long memories and that people know other people.  When it came to recommending a taxi driver or a business man, for every customer who was cheated, ten customers might go to other business men for their trade as a result.

A person’s good name is worth more than silver or gold.  Silver or gold come and go,  but a good name, once it has gone will take a long time to regain and more usually, once it has gone, it has gone forever.  Other people are very willing to spread news of a bad name.  This is because they do not wish their friends to have a bad experience and be cheated, or because they themselves, if they are tradesmen, may benefit from work that might have gone to the dishonest businessman.

Ahmed had two choices.  He realised he could either try to make his father change his ways or he could set up in his own name resolved to be completely honest.  If a customer thinks they are being cheated they may become frustrated and angry.  They feel like they are ‘juggling with sand’, so they take their custom elsewhere for their own peace of mind.

Ahmed decided to speak to his father about his concerns.  His father said, “God does not expect me to be perfect, if I am honest ninety percent of the time,  God will not judge me to be a bad man?”  

“I am not thinking about God judging you, Father.  I am thinking about our good name.  It is people who will be judging you right now.  If we cheat even only ten percent, they could easily ruin our reputation, and they certainly would not come back or send their friends to us.”  Ahmed’s father scratched his chin.  “I have never though of it like that.  You could be right, son.  I think I will have to give this some thought. ”

 Ahmed was pleased that his father was willing to change his dishonest ways.  He felt their future would be more secure if they were always dependable.  What do you think?

Questions

Do you know any traders or business people that you or your parents can trust completely?

Would you go to a different trader if you already knew one who would always be honest with you and everyone else?

Would you return to someone and ask them to work for you if they had cheated you or your friends before?

Not every one believes in God, those who do often think that God is watching what they do. Whether or not God is watching we can be sure that people are watching and noticing what we do. 

If we all act in ways that we would like other people to act towards us, what effect would that have on all our lives?

Mary was a girl of five years old.  She had never known her real mother.  She was brought up by her daddy and her grandmother whom she called Nanny.

Mary loved her Nanny and her dad very much.  She didn’t know her dad was lonely and needed to have a wife.  Nanny used to read bedtime stories to Mary.  She especially liked Snow White and Cinderella.  She used to pretend she was Snow White sometimes.  She would take a bite of a red apple and then fall on the ground and pretend to be asleep, waiting for a prince to wake her up with a kiss.  She used to call her dad to come and give her a kiss, which sometimes he would do, and then she would be happy ever after.  But sometimes Daddy was too busy and she had to wait until the dog saw her lying on the floor.  He would always give her a kiss, even though he wasn’t supposed to lick her!  She would wipe her face and then give the dog a big hug.

‘Thank you Rufty Tufty!’ she would say, ‘Now I can be happy ever after and we can live in this beautiful castle.’

One day daddy brought a pretty lady home.  She brought a present for Mary.  Daddy said he was going to marry this lady called Sue.  He said that Mary needed a mother and he needed a wife.  She would be Mary’s step-mother.  Now the only time Mary had heard about step- mothers was when Nanny read her the fairy stories about Snow White and Cinderella.  Mary became worried.  She thought that Step-Mother was the same as Wicked Step-Mother.

Mary got quite upset.  She hid behind the sofa.  She didn’t want to have a wicked Step-Mother.  Nanny asked Mary what was the matter.

‘I don’t want to have a wicked Step-Mother’ said Mary in a sad voice.

‘Oh, I see what the problem is,’ said Nanny. ‘Now let me explain about step-mothers.’

Nanny went on to tell Mary that you can only ever have one real mother and she is the person who gave birth to you.  You grew inside her tummy and when you were ready, out you popped, all new and slippery.

‘Sometimes people’s real mothers go away because something happens.  Some children never meet their real mothers.  Then along comes a nice lady who wants to help their daddy to look after them and they are called step-mothers.  Most people’s step-mothers are very nice people, who love the daddy and the children.’

‘Well, I think Sue is nice, but I was a bit worried,’ said Mary, ‘I thought all step mothers were nasty.’

‘Ah, I see how you could make that mistake, Mary, because that’s what your story seems to say.  But no, step-mothers can be very kind, good people, and usually are.  I’m sure we will be very happy to have Sue in our family.’

And do you know what?  They were all very happy and lived happily ever after.

How many nice step-mums can you see?

I come from that great country in a large corner of the world called China.  I remember sitting at my grandmother’s feet when I was a young girl.  She would tell me stories about her life when she was a girl.  Her parents worked in the fields. Life was very hard for them, but although they were poor, they were happy.

Everyone was the same. They all worked hard in the fields and only ate fish and rice every day. If someone managed to catch a bird, it was a day of celebration. Another family would be invited to join in with the meal. They ate snakes too, when they found them.

Grandmother had few toys, Her mother made her a rag doll and her father made a little wooden bed for it to sleep in. Any other toys were just pieces of broken crockery, or kitchen tools or containers which had to be given back to be used to prepare the fish and rice.

Grandma had a friend who lived nearby. Her name was Lin. The two girls made up stories about adventures on their horses. Pieces of rope were tied to their imaginary horses and off they would gallop to far away places, where they could find beautiful jewels in caves to bring home to make their parents rich. They thought that if they were rich they would be able to eat the kinds of things that kings and princes ate, which certainly wouldn’t be fish and rice.

One winter the snow came early and stayed for a very long time. Everyone had their stores of rice in sacks, kept safely away from rats and mice. Their dried and salted fish was hung high, near the ceiling.  Grandma’s mother was worried that there would not be enough food to last the winter. The rice was lasting out well, but the fish was nearly used up.  Soon most of the meals were made from rice alone.  The fish was all but finished and then it was gone. Grandma began to realise that she actually loved to eat fish. The rice was so plain without it. She complained to her mother. She said that she did not like to eat rice without fish. Her mother came and sat beside her.

“Rice is very good for us. It keeps us alive. We must be grateful that we have rice to eat. Some people have no fish and no rice at all. How do you think they feel? They must be very hungry. We must be happy because we are not hungry.”

“But I am tired of rice.” Grandma had said.

“You must learn to control yourself and not complain about things that cannot be changed. You will just feel bad and make other people unhappy too. You do not want to make you father unhappy, do you? If he sees you smiling and eating your rice, he will not be upset because you are moaning. He is grateful that we still have rice. He can smile about that and so can I. You must learn to smile about your plain rice too.

I asked my grandma if she ever did learn to smile about plain rice. She nodded her head. “My friend, Lin’s family had no fish and no rice. They came to share our rice until winter was over.  That made me very happy – to be able to give them rice, so that they would not starve. I never complained again. I was very grateful to have enough to eat – and I was happy to share it.

QUESTIONS:

1.       How did you feel when you heard the story?

2.       Did it remind you of anything in your own life?

3.       What toys did Grandma play with as a child in China?

4.       What food did they have to eat?

5.       What food did they have in the winter?

6.       What important thing did Grandma learn from her experience as a child?