1500-year-old Angel
Oak tree in South Carolina
The
man who lived in a cave
Some
years ago, one hot summer day whilst on holiday in Crete, I visited with
friends a small Church, high up on the top of a mountain. Near to the Church
was a man who lived in a cave. On visiting him he showed us around his “house.”
His bed was a smoothed rock shelf and another flat rock for a table. Above the
“table” was an oil lamp and Holy Icons of the Saviour and the Mother of God.
Outside,
he had two or three goats, a few chickens, a small plot of land with a clear
stream of water running through it. I recall that the bees at the time were
drinking from the stream.
“Don’t
you miss out on things? one of our company enquired of the man.
“No, I
have everything I need, I have milk and honey, I have eggs and freshwater to
wash and drink and I can always exchange a few eggs for bread in the village.”
“What
about the scorpions, aren’t you afraid of the scorpions?” one of our party
asked.
“
There are scorpions,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders, “but I don’t bother
them and they don’t bother me!”
++++++++++++++++++
A
shabbily dressed man walked into a publisher’s office in Moscow. He took from
his greatcoat a rather tattered manuscript and enquired whether it could be
published? The publisher glanced dismissively at the manuscript and seeing the
man’s dishevelled appearance said that he had no time to read it.
“Really?
“said the man “I must have been misinformed, I am told that people like to read
what I write.”
“
Indeed” said the publisher, his curiosity being aroused by this response “….and
so who are you? What is your name?”
“My
name?” as he collected his papers and stuffed them back into his overcoat, “my
name is Leo Tolstoy.”
The
publisher felt rather foolish and started begging for the privilege to publish.
The eccentric genius quietly withdrew making his exit from the publishing
office.
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