The Oath



A man who was troubled in mind once swore that if his problems were solved, he would sell his house and give all the money gained from it to the poor.

The time came when he realized that he must redeem his oath. But he did not want to give away so much money. So he thought of a way out.

He put the house on sale at one silve rpiece. Included with the house, however, was a cat. The price asked for this animal was ten thousand pieces of silver.

Another man bought the house and cat. The first man gave the single piece of silver to the poor, and pocketed the ten thousand for himself.

The Land of Truth



A certain man believed that the ordinary waking life, as people know it, could not possibly be complete. He sought the real Teacher of the Age. He read many books and joined many circles, and he heard the words and witnessed the deeds of one master after another. He carried out the commands and spiritual exercises which seemed to him to be most attractive.

He became elated with some of his experiences. At other times he was confused; and he had no idea at all of what his stage was, or where and when his search might end.

This man was reviewing his behavior one day when he suddenly found himself near the house of a certain sage of high repute. In the garden of that house, he encountered Khidr, the secret guide who shows the way to truth.

Khidr took hihm to a place where he saw people in great distress and woe, and he asked who they were. "We are those who did not follow real teachings, who were not true to our undertakings, who revered self-appointed teachers," they said.

Then the man was taken by Khidr to a place where everyone was attractive and full of joy. He asked who they were. "We are those who did not follow the real Signs of the Way," they said.

"But if you have ignored the Signs, how can you be happy?" asked the traveler.

"Because we chose happiness instead of Truth," said the people, "just as those who chose the self-appointed chose also misery."

"But is happiness not the ideal of man?" asked the man.

"The goal of man is Truth. Truth is more than happiness. The man who has Truth can have whatever mood he wishes, or none," they told him. "We have pretended that Truth is happiness, and happiness Truth, and people have believed us, therefore you, too, have until now imagined that happiness must be the same as Truth. But happiness makes you its prisoner, as does woe."

Then the man found himself back in the garden with Khidr beside him.

"I will grant you one desire," said Khidr.

"I wish to know why I have failed in my search and how I can succeed in it," said the man. "You have all but wasted your life," said Khidr, "because you have been a liar. Your lie has been in seeking personal gratification when you could have been seeking Truth."

"And yet I came to the point where I found you," said the man, " and that is something which happens to hardly anyone at all."

"And you met me," said Khidr, "because you had sufficient sincerity to desire Truth for its own sake, just for an instant. It was that sincerity, in that single instant, which made me answer your call."

Now the man felt an overwhelming desire to find Truth, even if he lost himself.

Khidr, however, was starting to walk away, and the man began to run after him.

"You may not follow me," said Khidr, "because I am returning to the ordinary world, the world of lies, for that is where I have to be, if I am to do my work."

And when the man looked around him again, he realized that he was no longer n the garden of the sage, but standing in the Land of Truth.

The Three Fish



This is a story of the lake and the three big fish that were in it, one of them intelligent, another half-intelligent, and the third, stupid.

Some fisherman came to the edge of the lake with their nets. The three fish saw them.

The intelligent fish decided at once to leave, to make the long, difficult trip to the ocean. He thought, "I won't consult with these two on this. They will only weaken my resolve, because they love this place so. They call it home. Their ignorance will keep them here."

The wise fish saw the men and their nets and said, "I"m leaving." The half-intelligent fish thought, "My guide has gone. I ought to have gone with him, but I didn't, and now I've lost my chance to escape. I wish I'd gone with him.

He mourns the absence of his guide for a while, and then thinks, "What can I do to save myself from these men and their nets? Perhaps if I pretend to be already dead! I'll belly up on the surface and float like weeds float, just giving myself totally to the water. To die before I die."

So he did that. He bobbed up and down, helpless, within arm's reach of the fishermen.

"Look at this! The best and biggest fish is dead." One of the men lifted him by the tail, spat on him, and threw him up on the ground. He rolled over and over and slid secretly near the water, and then, back in.

Meanwhile, the third fish, the dumb one, was agitatedly jumping about, trying to escape with his agility and cleverness.

The net, of course, finally closed around him, and as he lay in the terrible frying-pan bed, he thought, "If I get out of this, I'll never live again in the limits of the lake. Next time, the ocean! I'll make the infinite my home."

Town and the Two Streets



In eastern Armenia there was a little village with two parallel streets, called North Way and South Way, respectively. A traveler from afar walked down South Way, and soon resolved to visit the other street; however, as soon as he entered it, the merchants noticed that his eyes were filled with tears.

"Someone must have died on South Way," said the butcher to the textile salesman. "That poor stranger, who just came from there, look how he cries!"

A child heard the comment, and as he knew what a sad thing someone dying is, he began to cry hysterically. Before long, all the children in that street were crying.

Startled, the traveler decided to leave immediately. He threw away the onions he was peeling in order to eat them - that being the reason his eyes were filled with tears - and went off.

However, the mothers, worried by their children�s weeping, soon went to find out what had happened, and discovered that the butcher, the textile salesman and - by this time - several other merchants, were all deeply concerned about the tragedy which had occurred on South Way.

More rumors began to spread; and since the town hadn�t many inhabitants, everyone on both streets knew that a terrible thing had happened. The adults began to fear the worst; but, since they were worried about the gravity of the tragedy, they decided not to ask anything, so as not to make matters worse.

A blind man who lived on South Way and didn�t understand what was going on, decided to speak up:

"Why such sadness in this town, which as always been such a happy place?"

"Something terrible happened on North Way," answered one of the inhabitants. "The children are crying, the men frown, mothers send their sons home, and the only traveler to pass through town for many years, left with his eyes filled with tears. Perhaps the plague has hit the other street."

Before long, rumors of an unknown deadly disease spread through the town. And since all the weeping had begun when the traveler visited South Way, the inhabitants of North Way were sure that that was where it had begun. Before nightfall, people from both streets abandoned their houses and left for the mountains of the East.

Centuries later, that ancient village where a traveler passed peeling onions continues abandoned to this day. Not far away, two settlements emerged, called East Way and West Way. Their inhabitants, the descendents of the former inhabitants of the village, still do not speak to each other, for time and legends placed a great barrier of fear between them.

The Tales of the Sands



A stream, from its source in far-off mountains, passing through every kind and description of countryside, at last reached the sands of the desert. Just as it had crossed every other barrier, the stream tried to cross this one, but it found that as fast as it ran into the sand, its waters disappeared.

It was convinced, however, that its destiny was to cross this desert, and yet there was no way. Now a hidden voice, coming from the desert itself, whispered: "The Wind crosses the desert, and so can the stream."

The stream objected that it was dashing itself against the sand, and only getting absorbed: that the wind could fly, and this was why it could cross a desert.

"By hurtling in your own accustomed way you cannot get across. You will either disappear or become a marsh. You must allow the wind to carry you over, to your destination."

"But how could this happen?"

"By allowing yourself to be absorbed in the wind."

This idea was not acceptable to the stream. After all, it had never been absorbed before. It did not want to lose its individuality. And, once having lost it, how was one to know that it could ever be regained?

"The wind," said the sand, "performs this function. It takes up water, carries it over the desert, and then lets it fall again. Falling as rain, the water again becomes a river."

"How can I know that this is true?"

"It is so, and if you do not believe it, you cannot become more than a quagmire, and even that could take many, many years; and it certainly is not the same as a stream."

"But can I not remain the same stream that I am today?"

"You cannot in either case remain so," the whisper said. "Your essential part is carried away and forms a stream again. You are called what you are even today because you do not know which part of you is the essential one."

Sultan and the Sheikh



Many years ago the sultan of the Ottoman Empire visited one of the great sheikhs of Istanbul. He was deeply impressed with the wisdom and sincerity of the sheikh and began coming regularly to the sheikh's gatherings.

After some time the sultan said, "I have come to love you and your teachings. If there is ever anything you want or need, please ask me and I will provide it for you if it is in my power." That was, in effect, a blank check from one of the wealthiest and most powerful men on earth.

The sheikh replied, "Yes, there is one thing you can do for me. Please do not come back."

The astonished sultan asked, "Have I done anything to offend you? If so, please accept my apologies."

The sheik replied, "No, the problem is not you; it is my dervishes. Before you began visiting us, they would pray and chant to God, seeking only God's blessings. Now their minds are occupied with thoughts of pleasing you and receiving a reward from you. I have to ask you not to come back because we are not spiritually mature enough to handle your presence here."

thank you dear for this collection of short stories
I'll be back soon
thanks again

thank you miss Jordan
I really enjoyed reading the stories
big thanks in advance